Scylla and Charybdis
by Juliebmr
Summary: COMPLETE-11 Chapters. Scott Summers goes to college where he loses love and finds love, all while the roots of the X-Men take hold.
1. Default Chapter

_This story takes place during Scott's college years. While it isn't necessary to read my earlier story "Rebirth and Awakenings" to follow the plot, it does help explain prior events and reactions._

_And just as an aside, I'd like to know why I had to struggle to come up with a decent amount of pages for my master's thesis, but I can knock out 60 pages of fanfic with no trouble at all. >:-) _

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 1 - Freshman Year: Setting Sail

Scott Summers was packing. Or trying to. Claiming to help, but actually getting in his way, was one of the new members of the Xavier Institute, Lorna Dane.

Lorna was fourteen to Scott's eighteen, but from her arrival a few months ago, she had latched on to the older boy like a lifeline. And now he was leaving for college.

It didn't matter that Manhattanville College was still in Westchester and barely thirty minutes away. He was still leaving.

"I still don't see why you have to leave," Lorna grumbled. "Ororo goes to college in Danbury and she still lives here."

"Ororo wanted to go to WestConn. It was her choice. I want to go to Manhattanville and I don't want to commute every day. Besides, it's not like I'm never going to see you again. I'll be back most weekends."

"Most? You said you'd come back every weekend."

"No, I didn't," Scott corrected firmly. "I said I'd come back whenever I could."

Lorna sniffed. "You're going to go to New York every weekend to see Jean."

Scott hung his head and sighed. While nothing had been said, he had a feeling that everyone in the house knew of his new relationship with Jean, namely, that they had recently become lovers. He was still grappling with the idea that it had even happened at all. The idea of everyone else knowing was enough to make him run and hide. But Scott said nothing to confirm or deny Lorna's assertion and merely asked her to pack some books.

Hank McCoy drove Scott to Manhattanville College the next morning. His old friends, Warren Worthington and Ororo Munroe, were unable to accompany him; Warren, because he had to visit his parents on their rare return to New York, and Ororo because she had promised the other children she'd take them out that day. Jean was stuck in a rotation at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital and Professor Xavier had remained at the Institute at Scott's request. Scott had nearly burst into tears at the parting and couldn't stand the thought of another more emotional, and worse, more public, outburst. The Professor had understood and since Hank had also been there to bring Scott to Westchester, it seemed fitting he would be the one to take him to his new life at college.

Check-in at the college dorms was both smooth and chaotic. Professor Xavier had paid for a single room. The additional expense made Scott gulp, but he understood the need. There was both an issue of safety for a roommate as well as the necessity to hide his mutation. He would have liked the opportunity to be more "normal," but reality was what it was.

Scott carried his suitcases up the stairs while Hank effortlessly handled the big box of books. He found his room easily and opened the door.

Scott looked around the dorm room with interest. It was -- institutional. There was a bed, dresser, desk, and chair. The closet was small, but Scott wasn't concerned.

He turned to find Hank watching him with a smile. "What do you think?" Hank asked gently.

"I don't know," Scott replied. "Don't laugh -- but it kind of reminds me of Juvenile Hall."

Hank did laugh. "Oh my," he said wiping his eyes. "I'm sure the college officials would be thrilled to learn that." He rose to go. For once, words failed him. He held out his hand.

Scott laughed and gave him a hug instead. The days when he would automatically flinch at another's touch were being relegated to the past. "I'll be all right," he assured the other man. "I'm only a half hour from the Institute."

"And you're just over an hour from New York," Hank reminded him as he walked to the door. "You have my numbers. Call if you need anything. And Scott -- "

"Yes." 

"Have fun." With a smile and a wave, Hank was gone.

Scott sat down on the mattress. He was alone again, but yet, he wasn't. The Professor, Ororo, Lorna, and the others were in Salem Center; Warren was at Yale, and Jean and Hank were in New York City. He was far from being alone -- he was surrounded.

He concentrated on settling in. The bed was soon made and his possessions put away. It didn't take long because he didn't have a lot of things. But it was still very different from just two years ago, when everything he owned in the world would fit in a backpack. Now, he could fill a small closet. Not tightly, but it wasn't empty.

He turned his attention back to the Freshmen orientation packet on the desk. There was nothing on the schedule until that evening. With nothing else to do, Scott went exploring.

Manhattanville College sat on 100 acres of beautifully landscaped grounds. Scott noted the locations of the dining hall, the classrooms, the other dorms, and made a slow circuit around the campus, taking in the gym, the chapel, the library, and Reid Castle, the original estate owner's mansion. It was an attractive, self-contained little world, much like Professor Xavier's home. It was probably why he felt so comfortable coming here.

He headed back to the freshman dorm and saw two girls struggling up the stairs with a trunk.

"Need a hand?" Scott asked.

"Yes."

"No."

The two girls glared at each other over the trunk. "I'll be the tie breaker," Scott offered and picked up one end of the trunk, leaving the two to struggle with the other end. "Where are we headed?"

"Next floor, third room on the left."

"That's my floor too. My name's Scott. Scott Summers."

"Nancy Marshall," the blond replied. "This is my roommate, Maggie O'Reilly."

"Nice to meet you." Maggie sniffed in a disapproving way, but Nancy was more friendly, so Scott directed most of his comments to her. It turned out that the two girls had just arrived and most of their possessions were still downstairs. It took several more trips to bring everything upstairs.

Getting strong vibes from Maggie that his presence was no longer required, Scott returned to his room. It was depressingly quiet.

All things considered, Scott felt he survived his first week at college rather well. He learned where everything was on campus (not hard) and began making friends with some of the other freshmen in the dorm (a little harder). He was questioned (often, at first) about his glasses, but Scott used the simple lie that he had a vision problem that required special eye-wear. It had served him well for two years of high school and he had no doubt it would work at Manhattanville.

The first weekend, he decided not to go back to the Institute and stayed on campus. Jean was working through the weekend, so going down to New York City was pointless in his view. The following week was much like the first and before he knew it, Scott had been at Manhattanville College for three weeks.

"I've missed you so much."

Jean sighed as she rested her head on Scott's shoulder. It was late at night and they were in bed together. Contrary to Lorna Dane's belief, Scott had gone back to visit the Institute before he had been able to visit Jean. It was ridiculous really. When Jean was in med school, studying her backside off, she made it to the Institute almost every weekend. But as a first year Resident, she had a punishing schedule that left little free time. Finally, even though Jean's day off was mid-week, he couldn't stand it any longer. He made a concerted effort to get his homework done for the next day and rushed to the train immediately after classes. They would only have tonight, because Jean had to be back at the hospital early the next day and Scott had to be back in time for classes. Scott wasn't sure how they could keep their relationship going this way. It was insane.

"We have fall break in October. I can spend the whole week here, if you like," Scott said.

Jean smiled. Scott was still very hesitant in their relationship, whereas Jean was becoming more confident, something she seldom was normally. "I'd like that fine. I wish you went to school in the city; we could see more of each other then."

"You're seeing quite a lot of me right now," Scott joked.

"Do you like it at Manhattanville?" Jean asked.

"I do," Scott admitted. "It's not overwhelming. I think I'd be swallowed up at Columbia or NYU. It's -- manageable."

"Okay," Jean replied sleepily. "But come back in October."

"I promise," Scott said as they drifted off to sleep.

But fall break was no better. Scott arrived just as Jean changed a rotation at the hospital, which left her little time to be with her boyfriend. He didn't complain and played tourist. Warren came to visit his old friends on the first weekend, providing a welcome diversion. Lonely and bored during the week, Scott made two day trips to the Institute and Ororo even came down one day to see him. He said nothing to Jean and tried to keep any negative thoughts out of his mind. He was picking up guilty feelings from her when they were together, and he didn't want to add to that.

They parted at the end of the week, both pretending they had enjoyed their time together, and pretending they had been together far more often than they actually had.

Scott returned to Manhattanville and got back into the swing of classes and college life. He saw quite a lot of Maggie and Nancy. Not only were they on the same floor, but at least one of them were in most of his classes. It took a while for Maggie to thaw, but Nancy seemed to be able to bring her roommate around. They got into the habit, not only of studying together, but spending a lot of free time together. It was nice to have friends.

It was a little harder to connect with some of the guys at school. He felt they had very little in common. The interests of the other freshmen seemed so, so -- juvenile. But Scott joined the karate club and slowly made friends from within that circle.

He made two more visits to Jean in New York and went to the Institute almost every other weekend. He finished the semester with good grades in all his classes (even physics, and he had some reservations about that class). Scott returned to the Institute for Christmas break. He could have gone to Jean's apartment, but decided to visit her using Westchester as a base. He was gratified by the obvious delight of the other students (and Lorna especially) that he was going to be back for a whole month. It was a wonderful homecoming.

Christmas was celebrated with its usual lavishness at the Institute. There were now five teenagers in residence, plus Ororo, who was a sophomore commuter student at Western Connecticut State University, and regular visits by Warren, Hank, Scott and Jean. The mansion was rapidly getting full.

Jean had had a good visit with her family at Christmas, but it was shortened by her schedule at the hospital and could spend no more than a couple of hours at the Institute on her way back to the city. But she promised to come back in January for a few days if she could manage it.

In retrospect, Scott would have preferred that she had stayed away.

Professor Charles Xavier watched Jean and Scott play in the snow with the other students. He knew he should feel happy that they had found each other -- but he didn't. He loved them both dearly; they were the children he never had. Scott especially was like a son to him. The Professor didn't want to see either of them hurt and he wasn't sure they had what it would take to make the relationship work.

He decided to talk to Jean that afternoon.

The Professor and Jean had a good training session that afternoon. Her telepathy was growing again and her telekinesis was also becoming stronger, and better, becoming more steady.

They were sharing a cup of tea in the Professor's study afterwards, with Jean curled up on the couch across from him. Professor Xavier decided to broach the subject of Jean's relationship with Scott and hoped he could compel her to see reason.

"How is the residency program going?" he asked.

"Pretty well," Jean replied happily. "It's exhausting, though. I've noticed when I'm tired my shields drop, and that could be disastrous."

"So it could," the Professor agreed. "Would it be a good idea to come back more often for training sessions?"

Jean hesitated. She hated admitting it, but there had been some near misses recently that had badly frightened her. "Maybe I should," she said. "I'd get to see more of you. I miss you all."

That gave him an opening. "Do you see much of Scott?"

"Some," Jean replied, instantly wary. She had never spoken to the Professor about her relationship with Scott, but she had the feeling he didn't approve.

"I'm well aware of the change in your relationship," he stated gently. "However, I can not but feel it has the potential for personal disaster for you both.

"But why?" Jean asked. "I know I'm older than he is, but ..."

"Age is just one issue," he replied. "Scott is only eighteen. But apart from whether or not a committed relationship at his age would be fair to either of you, there is also the difference in your backgrounds, your life experiences. He's been hurt, Jean. Badly."

"I know."

"Do you?" Professor Xavier was skeptical.

"I know he's been beaten, molested -- and raped," Jean said. "He's survived four foster homes, three group homes, five hospitals, two psychiatric wards, juvenile hall and countless runaway shelters. Is there anything else?"

The Professor was surprised. He had no idea Jean was aware of the details of Scott's previous life. "When did you learn all this?"

"Scott told me everything over a year ago. He trusts me, you see." Jean felt a thrill of victory to be able to say that. Scott had told her -- not Professor Xavier.

"But let me ask you, Jean," the Professor continued relentlessly. "If you weren't a telepath, would you be able to understand him? Cope with him? Or are you depending on your gifts to help maintain your relationship?"

Jean glared at Professor Xavier resentfully. He had, of course, hit the nail on the head. She not only used the link she and Scott had forged between them, but also used her telepathy to make the link as strong as possible, so she could gauge his thoughts and feelings better when they were together. If she hadn't have been a telepath, Jean knew she would have made so many blunders by now that there was no way she and Scott would still have been together.

To his credit, Scott was well aware of what she was doing, and was often grateful for it. As he himself admitted, no one suffered through experiences like his and came away completely unscathed. He had problems with relationships, he knew, and was honest enough to admit it. That he could admit that much, albeit only mentally, was another reason why they were still together.

Jean took a deep breath. "I'm well aware that Scott has a lot of emotional problems -- and he's not exactly alone in that. But he trusts me; I can help him."

"The abuse took place over many years, Jean," the Professor said softly. "Healing from it will also take many years. Are you prepared for that?"

"But I don't want to leave him," she begged. "I love him!"

"Then let him go," he advised. "For both your sakes."

Jean returned to her room, shaking. Professor Xavier hadn't said anything she hadn't already thought or imagined herself. She heard again her old boyfriend's accusations:

_"You were hot for that kid from the beginning. Maybe you have kept your hands off him, maybe not. But you weren't innocent, Jean. You were never that."_

Had she, unconsciously, taken advantage of Scott? Had she been so enthralled by the idea of being loved by someone, anyone, that she had ignored everything else? Was she -- being fair?

Hours later, Scott and Jean were together in her room. Out of respect for the Professor's wishes, they weren't sharing a room; now Jean was glad of that decision. Somehow, she had to tell him. She lay back listening to Scott talk about the upcoming semester. He sounded like any other college freshman. Jean felt like her heart was breaking.

"... and I'll try to organize things better this semester and come down and see you more often."

"Maybe that's not a good idea," Jean began.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked slowly.

"I was thinking ... maybe we should slow this down a bit."

Scott bit his lip. He knew where this was going. "I see," he said.

"No, you **don't** see." Jean sighed. "Scott, college is a wonderful time. It's the last chance most people have at being young and doing anything they want. You were robbed of your childhood -- I just don't want to rob you of anything else."

"You're not robbing me of anything."

"How do you know? Scott, you're eighteen years old. Eighteen. I want you to have fun. I want you to think about what you want to do with your life. I want you to be free. Free to make mistakes, make a fool of yourself, try new things -- meet new people. I want you to see something of life."

"I've seen life," he stated bitterly. "It's not much."

"That's why I want you to see this life," Jean explained. "You've seen the worst the world can be -- this is your chance to see the world at its best. I don't want you to feel tied to me."

"So you don't want to see me anymore?" Jean could dress it up anyway she wanted, but to Scott, that's what she was talking about.

"I don't think it's a good idea for us to be committed to each other right now. I think you should see other people. If it's right and real, we'll get back together. If it isn't -- Scott, there's no worse hell than two people feeling trapped by each other."

Scott knew that. He had seen it in more than one foster home. "So what do we do if we both wind up at the Institute at the same time?"

"Scott, it's not that I don't want to see you," Jean said, feeling tears come to her eyes. "I'm your friend and I don't ever want that to change. But I think ... it would be a good idea if we're not lovers for a while."

Scott felt like his heart was breaking. But he couldn't cry in front of her. Without another word, he left her room and went back to his. He shut the door and put his head in his hands. And sobbed.

He had trusted her with his heart. And she had broken it.


	2. Off Course

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 2 - Freshman Year: Off Course

Thankfully, Jean left early the next morning. Everyone in the mansion knew that they had broken up -- it was pretty obvious. Scott withdrew into himself, much like he had when he first arrived at the mansion. Ororo and Lorna were the only two that came close to succeeding in drawing him out of his misery. Professor Xavier tried to talk to him, but Scott avoided any personal conversations. While the Professor was happy that Jean had taken his advice, he wished Scott had taken the break up better. It was upsetting to see him so despondent. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Scott returned to college for the beginning of spring semester.

Back at Manhattanville, Scott threw himself into his studies. But it didn't take long for Nancy and Maggie to pick up on his new mood. Being fairly direct young women, they tackled him about it one night as they studied together.

Scott was normally extremely closed mouthed when it came to his emotions, but Nancy was relentless. Before long, he was pouring out the story to them. At the end of it, Maggie and Nancy looked thoughtful. He waited for their verdict.

"The thing is," Maggie said, "Maybe she's right."

Scott stared at her dumbfounded.

Nancy chimed in. "Scott, did you date much in high school?"

"Some," he said defensively. He was stretching the truth quite a bit. It was true that Scott always seemed part of a group in school, but the truth was, it was always groups. Ororo had included him with her friends and by his senior year he had friends of his own. But he had never had a formal date in his life.

"Ah," Maggie said. She obviously didn't believe him. "And exactly how much older is Jean?"

Scott shrugged. "A couple of years."

Maggie was persistent. "How many?"

"Seven," Scott stated resentfully.

"Good lord, she's twenty-five!" Nancy exclaimed. "No wonder she thinks you guys should cool it for a while."

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" Scott asked.

"Believe it or not, yours," Nancy stated. "You want my advice, here it is -- give her space. You don't care about the age difference, but it's easy for you. You're the guy and you're the one who's younger. Think of it from her point of view. Whether you like it or not, people ask questions about a woman of twenty-five having a relationship with an eighteen year old."

"So we break it off for a couple of years -- then what?" Scott complained. "I'm always going to be seven years younger than her."

Nancy leaned forward with a smile. "But you won't always be eighteen. The older you get, the less of a deal it is. When you're twenty-five, she'll be thirty-two and no one will care that much. But right now, they do. So give her some space and use the time to grow up a little -- so she sees the man, not the sixteen year old kid she used to know."

Scott sniffed, but said nothing. Deep down, he knew they were probably right. He had no doubt of the depth of his feeling for Jean, and while he sensed through their link that she really did love him, he was also aware of her other, less defined feelings. She had reservations -- he knew that. He also realized Jean had been taking the brunt of everyone's disapproval. No one said anything to him, but he knew her mother wasn't happy and he was pretty sure the Professor had spoken to her, and probably others.

Jean needed time. For whatever reason, she needed it. If he loved her, Scott reasoned, surely he could give her that much. If their feelings for each other couldn't survive a year or two, then it was best they find out now.

Scott made his way to the computer lab. He began his homework, but he kept thinking about how to approach Jean. He switched over to the email application and started typing.

Jean had spent an exhausting day at the hospital. She was training for Internal Medicine, but she was wondering if she could really take the telepathic pressure of patients all day long. She thought again about switching to Pediatrics -- she had enjoyed that rotation a great deal and the children's minds were a little less complicated.

Back at home, she kicked off her shoes and turned on her computer. She had just enough time to read through her email before going to bed.

She was startled to see a message from Scott waiting for her. She clicked on it.

__

TO: jg591columbia.edu  
FROM: summerssmville.edu

Jean,

Hi! Don't worry -- this isn't a rant. I've thought about what you said a couple of weeks ago. I don't think I need a break from you, but if that's what you want, I guess I'll have to live with that. So, we'll be friends for now and see where we are later. I'd hate it if I couldn't ever talk to you again.

So, we'll start with the regular college litany. This semester, I'm taking Calculus II, Intermediate Spanish II, Physics II, English literature, and Art history. Please don't tell the Professor, but I'm never taking Physics again as long as I live. I'm okay with optics stuff, but the rest -- I can't think of anything worse, except Chemistry. And Biology. Can you tell I'm not good with sciences? Give me numbers and geometry any day.

I don't have to declare a major yet, but I'm thinking about math (no surprises there :-)). The minor is going to be more difficult. We're required to have one. I've thought about English or Spanish -- my advisor's pushing me to think about Education and consider teaching as a career. I don't know about that, though.

And I'm going to take your advice and get more involved here. There's a lot of stuff to do. MC has their own radio station -- that might be fun. Who knows, I might have a profession as a disc jockey. Beats driving a cab.

Well, Physics homework is beckoning (did I mention how much I hate Physics?)

Later,

Scott--

Jean smiled as she read the message. She missed him already, but at least they could stay friends. She quickly typed out a response and went to bed, feeling that at least some of the load on her heart had been lifted.

Days later, Scott returned to the dorm after dinner. He had exchanged two emails with Jean, and worked hard to keep the tone no more than friendly. He missed her terribly.

He got to his room and sat on the bed. The migraine hit him without warning and with an intensity that took his breath away. With painful effort, he found his cell phone and hit speed dial.

"Hello?" Hank McCoy answered.

By this time, Scott could barely speak. "Hank ... I can't .... help ...." He dropped the phone.

Hank stared at his phone for a minute before grabbing his coat and car keys. He took the stairs down to the garage two at a time.

Hank made it from Manhattan to the college in record time and parked in the visitor's lot, racing to the dorms. Fortunately, someone had propped the main door open and Hank went straight to Scott's room. He knocked on the door.

"Scott?" He called quietly. He tried the door and it was unlocked. Hank entered the room and saw him lying on his bed, barely conscious. He found the desk light and turned it on, carefully shining the light away from Scott. Scott shuddered slightly.

"It's going to be all right, Scott," Hank assured him in a whisper as opened his medical bag and prepared a hypodermic. He was too far gone for anything but morphine to work. He rolled up the sleeve to Scott's sweater and gave him the injection.

"Who are you?"

Hank jumped slightly at the voice. He turned to see a tall, dark haired young woman standing in the doorway.

"I'm Dr. Henry McCoy, I'm Scott's physician," Hank said. It wasn't really a lie -- for the past two years, Hank had been Scott's medical doctor. "And you are?"

"My name is Maggie, I'm a friend of Scott's. What's wrong with him?"

"He suffers from chronic migraines," Hank explained. There was really no harm in the girl knowing. "The glasses assist with his condition, but they are not always effective."

"Is there anything I can do?" Maggie asked.

"Would you mind taking that wash cloth and making a cold compress?" Hank replied. "It would probably help."

Maggie soon returned with the compress. "Is he going to be all right?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Hank answered. "Sadly, this isn't an unusual circumstance." And one I've been expecting, he thought to himself.

"Do you need someone to stay with him?" asked Maggie.

"Thank you, but I'll be remaining with him for the night. I had to give him a very strong analgesic," Hank replied.

He saw her glance swiftly over to the desk. The vial was clearly labeled "morphine."

"Scott is a very private person," Hank said suddenly. "He wouldn't like the severity of his condition known."

Surprisingly, Maggie smiled. "Don't worry, Dr. McCoy. I know how to keep a secret."

Towards dawn, Scott woke. Instinctively, he checked to see if his eyes were covered. He was still wearing the glasses, which was both a good and bad sign. He opened his eyes experimentally. He had been covered with a blanket and a compress lay on the night stand. His probable nurse sat dozing in the chair nearby.

"Hank?" Scott called softly. Hank woke in a second.

"Ah, you're awake. No ill affects, I trust," Hank said with a smile.

"No," Scott began but he was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Hank went to answer it. Scott recognized the voice. It was Nancy.

"Would you like some coffee, Dr. McCoy? We have tea, if you prefer?"

"Thank you, no. I have to get back to the city," Hank replied.

"How is he?" Nancy asked.

Hank turned to look at Scott, who nodded his assent.

"You can come in and ask him yourself," Hank said as he stepped aside to let her in.

Nancy smiled as she saw Scott. "Hi," she said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy," Scott said. Heavens, his voice sounded like sandpaper. He swallowed and tried again. "I'll be fine." That was a little better.

"Would you like something to eat? We've got some instant oatmeal in the room," she offered.

Hank smiled and picked up his bag. "That sounds like an excellent suggestion, Scott. Food would be a very good idea, but keep it to easily digestible fare. As it appears that you're in exceptional hands with this young lady, I'll be leaving now. Please remember to call later; I want to be kept informed of your progress today."

"I will," Scott assured him. "And Hank -- "

"Yes?"

"Thanks for coming."

Hank smiled. "Any time, Scott. It was very nice meeting you," Hank said to Nancy as he left.

Scott tried to sit up and immediately regretted it.

"Whoa, I wouldn't push your luck," Maggie breezed in with a coffee mug. "You can have that, if you're allowed."

"I'm allowed," Scott said gratefully. He was a little surprised to see Maggie. He didn't think she cared that much. He had no recollection that it had been Maggie who had come to his room when Hank first arrived, making cold compresses and periodically checking on him.

Scott felt better as he sipped on the coffee and he must have started to look it too. Nancy curled up in the wooden armchair while Maggie took the one by the desk.

"What's your normal drill now?" Maggie asked. "Do you have to stay in bed for the rest of the day?"

"It depends how I feel," he replied. "Usually I can get up, provided I take things slowly ..."

"Morphine's pretty strong," Maggie agreed.

Scott stared at her, aghast. He hated having to take strong drugs for the migraines, but he hated morphine the most. He hated the idea that anyone else knew. He felt it was a weakness, a shameful weakness.

"Don't worry," Nancy added. "Maggie and I are the only ones that know and we're not going to tell anyone. So how about I go get that oatmeal, and we all have breakfast in here?"

He nodded and found himself having an early breakfast with his two friends.

Scott spent the rest of the day moving slowly. He got himself showered and dressed and only skipped his earliest class. Nancy was in that class and she promised him notes. He made it through the rest of the day, with only mild waves of dizziness as the morphine left his system.

That night, the three of them studied together in Nancy's and Maggie's room. True to her word, Nancy had taken excellent notes for Scott to copy.

He felt like he had to say something about the morning.

"I don't have to take them often, you know," Scott said suddenly. "The painkillers. I only get migraines like that two or three times a year. I can sometimes ward them off with no more than aspirin.

Maggie regarded him with unexpected humor. "It really bothers you, doesn't it? That we know something about you that you'd rather keep secret?"

"It's not that ...," he lied.

"Yes, it is. Okay, if you're uncomfortable with us knowing about your condition, we'll let you know a secret." She nodded to Nancy. They had obviously talked about it earlier. "So we'll be even."

"And what would that be?" he asked flippantly.

"We're gay."

Behind his glasses, Scott blinked. He was both surprised -- and not. Several little things he had rarely paid attention to, now came together and made startling sense.

"No one else here knows," Nancy said. "Are you shocked?"

"No," He replied. He wasn't really.

"I don't think much shocks Scott," Maggie stated decisively.

He looked at her carefully. Maggie had a reputation of being cold and aloof in the dorm. To a degree, Scott had shared that opinion. Nancy was always the more outgoing of the two. He realized now that Maggie was far more observant and intuitive than most people gave her credit for.

"I've seen a lot," Scott said guardedly. He hesitated and then added. "I'm not really from Westchester; that's just where I was at school for the last two years."

"Where are you from?" Nancy asked.

"My Dad was in the Air Force," he began. He wasn't sure how much he really wanted to tell them. "I was born in Alaska, and we moved to Florida and finally Nebraska. I lived in Nebraska for almost seven years -- let's say I'm from Nebraska and leave it there."

"And the migraines? Are they like, some congenital condition?" Nancy continued her questioning.

Scott decided to tell them as much of the truth as he dared right now. "No. I was in a plane crash," he said. "My parents were killed and I was badly injured. I've had the migraines ever since." He didn't say "brain-damage." He refused to say that.

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

He shrugged. "It was a long time ago. So, I know your secret and you know mine. Now what?"

Maggie walked over to the mini-refrigerator and pulled out three sodas. She handed one to Scott.

"To secrets?" she offered with a smile.

Scott smiled and took the bottle. "To discretion," he amended as they clinked bottles.

Hank met Jean for lunch in the cafeteria whenever her schedule allowed it, which meant they saw each other two or three times a week. Jean loved these lunches; she got a chance to reconnect with the Institute and its inhabitants through Hank. She felt so isolated these days and she hated it.

Hank filled Jean in on Scott's latest migraine bout.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"Oh, he's fine now," Hank replied. "I made him call me that night again, just to be safe. But I think those two girls will keep an eye on him."

Jean was startled. "What girls?"

"Oh," Hank said airily, knowing full well this was news to Jean. "Just two girls that live on the hall. They seem to be close friends with Scott."

Hank watched Jean's expression with interest. He was well aware that she and Scott had broken up over the Christmas break. Alone of all their friends, Hank regretted it. He saw beyond the obvious differences between the two, and realized they were excellent for each other. But he also knew how easily Jean could be swayed by the Professor. In fact, Hank and Professor Xavier had had a bitter disagreement over the latter's tactics.

Hank knew Scott's feelings for Jean were unchanged. He was also fairly sure Jean's feelings had not altered either. Perhaps a little jealousy would be a good motivator for her.

If she was jealous, Jean didn't show it. All she said was, "I suppose they are," and changed the subject. Hank happily followed along the new topic. He had planted the seed. All that remained was to see if it grew.

As for Scott, the rest of the semester flew by. Before he knew it, he was packing up the contents of his dorm room and moving back to the Institute. His first year of college was over.


	3. Becalmed

_Author's note: I normally have little stars between sections; for some reason, they haven't displayed properly in the last two chapters. I'll work on it._

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 3 - Freshman Year: Becalmed

Settling back in at the Institute took a little time. For a start, there were more teenagers in residence. There were now six, aged 14 to 18. Plus Ororo, and occasionally Warren and Hank. The new students were beginning to have to double up. So far, Scott, Ororo, Warren, Hank and Jean kept their own rooms, but Scott didn't doubt the day would come that the Professor would ask to the alumni to start sharing.

Jean was mostly absent, but that wasn't entirely due to their breakup. Now in her second year of residency, she didn't get a summer vacation to speak of. Her short breaks were spent with her family, and no more than a day in Salem. So Scott forced himself to be content with emailed conversations and the occasional visit. When she did come, she looked so exhausted he easily fell back into his old habit of giving her back massages, which she gratefully accepted. Scott wondered if she was pushing herself too hard and said so.

"Gee, I think we've had this conversation before," Jean said as Scott kneaded her neck.

"You know what I mean," he replied. "You need a break. Somehow, I don't think visiting your family gives you one."

Jean stiffened beneath his hands and Scott immediately regretted his words. He had met Jean's family on a couple of occasions over the years. He like her father, but he felt Jean's mother was too overprotective and too inclined to try to run her daughter's life. And Jean's sister Sara didn't help matters much. Three years older than Jean, she had lived the charmed life, popular in school, intelligent, vivacious, everything Jean would have been had her life not been altered by her mutation. Sara had married well and had two adorable twin children, a boy and girl. The twins at least, Scott thought, offered Jean unconditional love and approval. Jean's family accepted her mutation, but it was a grudging acceptance.

"I'm sorry," he said now. "That was uncalled for."

"They love me," Jean said softly. "It's just so hard at the hospital and they don't understand why. I have to keep my shields up all the time. I'm so afraid that one day I'm going to slip ..."

"That's not going to happen," Scott assured her.

Jean closed her eyes and said nothing. She had had so many close calls at the hospital already. She was grateful for these few hours at the Institute, where she could let her guard down and rest.

And speaking of resting, this was getting just a little too comfortable. Jean didn't want Scott to think she had changed her mind.

"Thanks," she said gently, pulling away slightly. "That always helps."

Scott stopped without a moment's hesitation. "Do you have to drive back tonight?"

"I'd better," Jean said. "I've got rounds at 6:30 in the morning. I'd have to get up at 4:00am to make it. I'd better go."

"Look after yourself," Scott called after her.

Scott was one of the few people who truly cared about her, Jean thought as she got in her car that evening to leave. Even after she broke his heart.

And her own.

Professor Xavier took Scott, Warren, and Ororo with him Westchester Airport to check over his new purchase. Warren had finally convinced him to buy his own small plane which could be customized for his needs. The Professor was traveling more now and he admitted there were many inconveniences with chartering a plane or flying commercially when you were in a wheelchair.

The company's sales representative met them at the airport. A model plane had been flown in for the Professor's inspection. Scott was a bit bemused by this method of shopping.

Surprisingly, Scott took a strong interest in the plane. He, Warren and Ororo checked out the interior of the plane while the sales representative went over interior colors and technical specifications with the Professor.

Scott found himself staring at the instrument panel on the flight deck. Warren watched him, smiling.

"Ever thought of learning to fly, Slim?"

Scott shook his head. "Not really. I haven't been in a plane since the Professor brought me here."

Warren regarded him thoughtfully. "Did it bother you?" He knew about the plane crash, of course.

Scott had to think about that for a moment. In fact, he realized, once he got used to the concept of being in a plane again, he wasn't bothered at all. "No," Scott admitted. "I was -- fine."

"Why don't you ask the Professor to take some lessons? You might find you enjoy it. I do." Warren wasn't speaking of his mutation; he had a pilot's license and his own small plane and loved using it every chance he got.

"If he gets to learn, so do I," Ororo stated resolutely.

"Why don't both of you to learn," Warren suggested. "Somebody's got to fly the thing. He could always hire a pilot as needed, but I think he's going to wind up using this for more than just conferences."

They didn't say anything, but all three knew what Warren was referring to. In spite of the fact they were all in separate colleges, they had not forgotten their joint realization that the day would soon come where mutants would have to protect humans from other mutants. They continued training as much as they could, both together at the Institute and separately. Warren still made cracks about a "mutant SWAT team," but deep down, he took it as seriously as any of them.

Scott and Ororo quickly approached Professor Xavier regarding lessons and he readily agreed. As Warren said, it would be far more convenient to have someone he trusted at the controls. Also, he knew as they did, the plane would be a handy way to pick up new mutants as they were discovered.

Flying lessons were wonderful, Scott decided. He and Ororo took lessons together through the summer. Both had a natural aptitude for it, but in different ways. Ororo understood the winds and the air currents; she knew how to guide the plane through elements that were very real to her. Scott loved the mechanics of the plane. He had a comprehension of the machine that was almost uncanny. He often wondered if such things were genetic. After all, his father had been a pilot. More than that, he had been a test pilot. They were the creme de la creme of the Air Force. It pleased Scott to think he might take after him.

By the end of the summer, they had picked up another mutant child and both Scott and Ororo had their pilot's licenses. They agreed to continue with lessons to be rated for instruments and bigger planes. Professor Xavier was pleased. Everything was continuing to work out very well indeed.


	4. The Siren's Song

_Author's note: Stars still aren't working. Let's see if 'x's will._

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 4 - Sophomore Year: The Siren's Song

Back at Manhattanville, the second year began much as the first. And with only a handful of dorms, Scott was hopeful Maggie and Nancy would be in the same building. Sure enough, they located each other within a day. Same building, different floors.

It was definitely different being a sophomore, Scott decided. There was certainty now -- he knew where everything was and he knew the ropes. And he knew other students as well so he had more of a feeling of connectivity to the place.

x x x

After a few weeks, Nancy came to Scott with a proposal.

"I want to take dancing lessons," she announced.

"And?" Scott prompted.

"The Ballroom Dance Club is offering beginners lessons. But I need a partner," she explained.

"Why me?" he asked.

Nancy stared at him. "I can't exactly go with Maggie; that's like putting a sign around both of us. Not to mention the fact she's not really interested. You're the only guy I know who might say yes. I promise, if you really hate it, we don't have to go again."

Scott found it impossible to say no and agreed to accompany her to the first session that Thursday evening.

x x x x x

There were about a dozen couples in the old ballroom. The instructor, Mr. Harcourt, taught drama at the college; his assistant was a Manhattanville student. Scott vaguely remembered the pretty blond from one of his classes. Her name was Emma Frost.

The lessons began with a simple foxtrot. The Mr. Harcourt and Emma demonstrated the steps and then worked with all the couples.

"No, dear, you have to let him lead; it's one of the rules." Emma Frost smiled as she neatly stepped into Nancy's place. "It's like this," she began.

Scott found Emma was very easy to partner. That she liked demonstrating steps with him was obvious. By the end of the class, Scott was working mostly with Emma and Nancy was partnered with Mr. Harcourt.

They walked back to the dorm. Scott could tell that Nancy was developing a fit of the giggles, but couldn't figure out why.

"How was the class?" Maggie asked as they entered the dorm room.

"It was great," Nancy said. "I loved it. And the best part -- do you remember that really uppity girl from chemistry last year? Emma Frost?"

"Barely. Why?"

"Well, she the was instructor's assistant. And I think Emma "Miss Ice Queen" Frost took a liking to our Scott."

This was news to him. "What are you talking about?"

Nancy chuckled. "You are so oblivious -- it's so sweet. But trust me; she likes you."

"Watch yourself with her, Scott," Maggie advised. "I don't think she's the warm and fuzzy type."

"I think your both reading way more into this than there is," Scott said as he went back to his room.

But they weren't.

x x x x x

Next Thursday's lesson was exactly the same. Emma found a reason to partner Scott almost exclusively, leaving Nancy to Mr. Harcourt.

"Don't you mind?" Scott asked Nancy after the lesson. He was starting to realize there might be something to what the girls said last week.

"Not in the least," Nancy assured him. "I'm getting to partner with the instructor. If I can't learn with him, I can't learn. The question is, do you mind?"

Scott had to think about that for a minute. "I don't know," he finally said. "It's a little weird. But it's not like she can really do much in a dance class."

It didn't dawn on Scott at the time, that in a small private college, they were bound to meet outside of class eventually.

x x x x x

Scott stood outside on the patio and stretched, trying to work a kink out of his shoulder muscles from a bad fall in karate class. It was Saturday night and there was a party on full blast. Ordinarily, Scott didn't attend them, but since his breakup with Jean, he was doing a lot of things he didn't normally do. And he was finding from experience that either his initial view was the correct one or he didn't hate it so much after all. Like the party tonight.

He heard a rustle behind him and turned. He really didn't like being in the dark; his vision was much more restricted. "Who's that?" he called out.

"It's just me," a female voice replied and she stepped into the light. It was Emma Frost.

"Oh, hi," Scott stammered.

"Hi," she returned easily.

"Don't you like the party?" Small talk had never been Scott's forte.

"It's a bit warm in there," Emma returned.

"Oh." There was silence between them for a while, then Scott tried again. "You're a really good dance teacher. Have you been doing ballroom dancing for a long time?"

"I was junior champion for three years running," she told him. "You move well and you have the body of a dancer. You could be at competition level soon if you worked at it."

That made Scott laugh. "I don't think I'm into competition ballroom dancing."

Emma moved closer. "What are you into?"

Scott shrugged. Oh, God, he thought, Maggie and Nancy were right.

She kept coming towards him and Scott nervously began to back up. He hit the wall and she continued to come closer. Finally, she was on him.

Emma leaned him into the wall. Okay, if he was going to be dense, she could spell it out for him.

Behind his glasses, Scott closed his eyes. He was starting to feel trapped, and he didn't like that. He opened his eyes to see her moving in to kiss him. He turned his head and she got his jaw instead.

"What's wrong, you don't like being pursued?" Emma asked.

"I don't like having my back against the wall," Scott stated honestly.

Oh, well, if that were the only problem, she could be flexible. Still holding on to Scott, she twisted around so that she wound up with her back to the wall and he was in front of her.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Good," she said, right before she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him towards her for a kiss.

Scott was initially startled, but decided after a few minutes it was nice. The kiss was long and lascivious.

"Not bad," Emma commented when they came up for air.

"I can do better when I'm not ambushed," Scott said wickedly.

Emma smiled broadly. "I'll hold you to that," she said as she returned to the party. "Good night, Summers."

x x x x x

Scott and Emma developed a pattern in their relationship. They never actually went out together, but for the rest of the semester, they danced together every Thursday (with Nancy happily working with the instructor) and occasionally met at parties and other social functions and paired off for a while.

Emma made her interest and desires well understood by Scott. But an imp of mischief made him play dumb for as long as possible. It was a game, and she understood it was a game. But Emma also knew Scott would eventually fold.

They all had before.

x x x x x

Scott stifled a moan and then wondered why he bothered. That was, after all, what Emma was after. And one should never disappoint a lady.

They were in his bedroom. He was seated in the chair and Emma was on his lap. Well, straddling his lap. And since she was in a skirt, physical contact was rather -- intimate. Which was the point he knew. Scott was never as naive as many people thought he was.

Scott idly allowed his hands to wander. This wasn't the kind of thing he and Jean had ever indulged in. He was pretty sure he enjoyed it. He wondered if Jean would. Probably. She hadn't exactly been hesitant with him.

Where they would have gone with this, he never knew. They were interrupted by a pounding on his door.

"Scott, Scott, are you there," Nancy called.

Emma sighed melodramatically as Scott easily moved her off his lap so he could answer the door. He only opened the door part-way, using it to block Nancy's view of Emma, who was now lounging in the chair.

"Nance, this isn't a good -- ," he began and stopped when he saw her face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Maggie," she said. "I need your help. There's been an accident."

x x x x x

Scott followed Nancy back to her room, and more out of curiosity than true concern, Emma trailed along behind them.

Maggie was sitting in the chair with a wet cloth held to the top of her head. The cloth was covered in blood.

Scott checked the wound carefully. "What happened?" he asked.

"Some jerk threw a bottle at us from one of the houses on the way back to campus," Maggie replied through clenched teeth.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Maggie snapped disgustedly.

That was unanswerable. Scott took Maggie's face in his hands and looked carefully at her eyes. "What's eight times four?" he asked.

"Thirty-two, you damned math geek," was her reply.

"I don't think she's got a concussion," he told Nancy. "But that gash in her head could probably use some stitches. The Health Center is closed already; we'll need to find someone with a car so we can get to the hospital. I guess we need to call Campus Safety or find an RA."

"And tell them what?" Maggie said waspishly. "Two dykes got a bottle tossed at them?"

"Not necessarily," Emma said by the door. They turned at regarded her; they had forgotten she was there. "I have a car; we can go to the emergency room together. After all, there we all were, the four of us, walking down the street, minding our own business, when this idiot throws a bottle out of a window and hits Maggie in the head." She looked at them all with a smile. "What else do we need to say?"

"Nothing," Scott said firmly as he helped Maggie on with her coat over her protests.

x x x x x

Scott was surprised to find that not only was Emma the soul of discretion regarding the bottle throwing incident, she didn't mention it again to him either. Maybe he had misjudged her. In any case, he was grateful to get back to the mansion for the winter break. Things at school were just getting too weird.

x x x x x


	5. Ulysses Was Lucky

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

_Author's note: it's the scenes in this chapter that make me give the story a PG-13 warning. I don't think it requires a higher rating, but as the TV warnings say, "This program contains sexual situations."_

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 5 - Sophomore Year: Ulysses was Lucky

The situation didn't improve upon Scott's return to Manhattanville in January. Emma continued her pursuit of him. By this time, the whole dorm knew about it, and probably most of the campus as well.

Maggie was so concerned she broke her unwritten rule about not getting involved in her friends love lives, and sat Scott down to talk to him.

"Scott, I don't think you understand the kind of woman Emma Frost is," she said bluntly. "She wants you and she's going to have you. Her kind always gets their own way."

"Her kind?" he asked.

"Rich," she stated firmly. "Powerful. The Frosts are an old Boston family. They kept their money and their power. Her grandfather ran Boston from behind the scenes for years. No one could get elected there without his support. People like her aren't used to being told no."

"I'm not entirely sure I'm going to tell her no," Scott admitted.

"She's going to use you and leave you high and dry," Maggie warned.

"I know," he said. "But at least I know it ahead of time."

It never dawned on anyone it might turn out a little differently.

x x x x x

Scott and Nancy continued to attend the dance classes, but it was understood that once they got there, Nancy would work with Mr. Harcourt and Emma would be with Scott. He often wondered how Emma had squared this with Mr. Harcourt -- and then decided he didn't want to know.

For the first half of the semester, everything remained the same -- Emma pursuing and Scott deftly staying one step ahead. It had become an odd game, but Emma was getting ready to play a new card.

"My family is having a big party in the city on Saturday and I have to go," she told him one afternoon. "I want you to be my escort."

"Okay, but how are we going to get there?" Scott asked.

"My dad is sending a car," she replied. "All that's arranged. All you have to do is get a tux. I can recommend a shop."

"I know where to get a tux," he said. Well, he knew who to ask, anyway. "Don't worry," he added. "I won't embarrass you."

"I know you won't," Emma responded with a smile.

x x x x x

"Emma Frost? Way to go, Slim!" Warren laughed as they walked down the street towards his tailor's shop in New York. He had come up that weekend from Yale to help Scott get ready for the party. "She's quite a catch."

"You know the family?"

"I know of them," Warren said. "Dad does business with the Frosts. I've met Emma a couple of times, but she's never made a pass at me."

"Oh, please," Scott said and then stopped outside the shop. "He does understand I'm renting it?"

Warren grabbed his arm and dragged Scott inside. "Yes, he does. They normally don't rent, but he's doing it as a special favor to me. So calm down and let the man take his measurements."

x x x x x

Scott tried to stay calm on the trip to the city, but it was hard. He'd never been in a limousine before (although the Professor had a very cool Bentley.) And Emma -- Emma was a knockout. Her hair and makeup was flawless and her dress was strapless white satin with little crystals embroidered over it. So here he was, the frog going out with the princess. It was completely surreal.

Not that anyone would guess he was a frog by the way he was dressed. The tuxedo was perfect and Warren had loaned him a pair of his grandfather's cufflinks, as well as giving him a crash course in what to expect as Miss Frost's escort. Scott was nervous. He had gone to the Worthington's country club with Warren to play golf a couple of times and had felt very out of place. He had no doubt it would be the same here.

They reached the hotel and got out of the limo. Scott was startled by the flash of the bulbs.

Emma tightened her hold on his arm. "Press," she whispered. "This is a big society function. They take pictures of lots of people, then pick a couple. Don't worry, just smile."

Emma stood there for a moment so they could get the photographs, like an old pro, which in this case she probably was.

The hotel ballroom was packed. Scott took a deep breath and concentrated on saying nothing and not tripping on his own feet. Thankfully, Emma's family (Scott counted a mother, father, brother, and two sisters) were welcoming. And a couple of the guests Scott had actually met before at parties where he had accompanied Professor Xavier. The Frosts and the Xaviers obviously moved in the same social circles. Scott began to feel less out of place and more able to enjoy himself.

His dancing lessons with Emma certainly paid off. They were among the more accomplished couples on the dance floor. Scott had spent most of his life trying to avoid attention, but that wasn't possible with Emma. But for once, he didn't mind being noticed.

After midnight, the party started winding down. "Is the car waiting for us?" he asked Emma.

"Actually, we have a room," she whispered. "Here, in the hotel. I know you've never been comfortable with the idea of us being together in the dorm -- there's no privacy. Here, there's total privacy and total anonymity. No one will know. Just us."

Scott's mind was reeling. Every good sense he had was screaming at him to run, but, but, she was so beautiful. And she wanted him. She wanted him. Did it really matter that he didn't love her? But before they went any further, he was going to make sure there was no pretense.

"I don't love you," he said quietly.

"I never said love was a requirement," was Emma's arch reply. She held out her hand. "Shall we go?" she asked.

Scott took her hand and followed her to the elevators.

x x x x x

Inside the room, Scott watched her carefully, like the pet mouse with the pet cat, wondering when and whether instinct would cause the cat to gobble him up. But right now, Emma was pretty tame.

And she was making a concerted effort to make him comfortable with the situation, Scott realized. He was being seduced -- which was a new experience. He was starting to think he liked it.

His jacket was neatly folded on the chair and his tie was casually tossed on the table. His shirt was unbuttoned and Scott knew he had lost his last chance to make a graceful exit.

She took his cufflinks off with a smile.

"Don't I get to do anything?" he asked.

"Not yet," Emma replied wickedly.

Another problem made its way through Scott's brain. "By the way, I don't have any ..." he stuttered.

"I do," she replied calmly.

There was nothing left to say. Scott leaned forward and kissed her.

x x x x x

Soon they were naked in the big, king sized bed. Emma was straddling him. She tried to take off his glasses.

"NO!" he shouted. He lowered his voice. "You can't do that. It's dangerous."

"Okay," she agreed. "The glasses say on." She leaned forward to kiss him. "Don't worry," she said softly. "I won't hurt you."

Her lips were soft and warm, but what struck Scott the most was the silence.

x x x x x

Early the next morning, Scott woke. Instinctively, he reached for his glasses, to make sure they were secure before opening his eyes. Emma lay beside him, still asleep. He moved carefully, trying not to wake her. He retrieved his clothes and headed for the bathroom and a quick shower. He hadn't paid attention to his conscience last night, but this morning, it refused to be ignored.

What had possessed him? He had successfully fended off Emma's advances for months, what made him suddenly give in now? He didn't love Emma; at times, he wasn't sure he even liked her. And why was he worrying so much about this? Other guys had casual relationships, why couldn't he?

Which was the problem for him, Scott realized now. Casual relationships had no interest for him; they reminded him too much of things he had witnessed on the streets as a runaway. Jean had understood this, but then, Jean had understood a lot about him. And not all of it was because of her telepathy.

Jean. He still loved Jean with all his heart. Emma was nothing more than a substitute, and that wasn't fair to anyone. He would end it this morning.

When he came out of the bathroom, Emma was sitting up in the bed.

"Already dressed, I see," she said with a slight smile.

"I .. I get up early all the time," Scott said. "I didn't want to wake you. Emma, about last night..."

"Last night was wonderful," Emma said. "Oh, heavens, look at the time. Don't worry, it doesn't take me long to get dressed and we can get a quick breakfast at a drive-thru on the way back."

She gave him no time to say anything. Scott blinked as she unceremoniously rose from the bed and pulled an overnight bag from the closet. He hadn't noticed that before. She had planned this whole thing very well, down to the last detail.

Except telling him, of course.

True to her word, Emma was showered and dressed in less than ten minutes -- jeans and a sweater, standard college wear. In contrast, Scott, in the remains of the tuxedo, felt very conspicuous.

Emma grinned, easily reading his thoughts. "It's different for guys. They come home, obviously out all night, and no one says anything; girls are looked at like the Whore of Babylon. I do have something of a reputation to maintain."

He found himself laughing at the picture. "I guess so," he said, and gallantly took her overnight bag down to the waiting limo.

x x x x x

Scott lost his opportunity to break it off with Emma. The problem was, she was a lot of fun. Sex was one thing (and very enjoyable), but she also liked many of the same things he did. She was teaching him Latin Ballroom, outside their regular classes and she was quite right -- it didn't take him long to get close to her level. And she wasn't so uppity that she didn't enjoy the odd sports game. They weren't completely incompatible. But every time Scott was with Emma, he thought of Jean.

x x x x x

Back in Manhattan, Jean was enjoying a rare morning off. A cup of coffee, fuzzy slippers and the New York Times to really read, rather than just skimming the headlines.

She turned to the society columns and almost choked. Staring up at her was a picture of Scott and Emma. She read the blurb that went with the photograph, "Miss Emma Frost of Boston with her handsome young escort." She looked like a slut, Jean thought maliciously, but she had to admit, Scott did look handsome. And, well -- very grown up. She partially put that down to the tuxedo he was wearing. All men looked good in a really nice tuxedo. Warren probably picked it out for him, Jean thought with a smile.

So, Scott had a girlfriend. Jean tried to tell herself she was happy for him, that it was what she wanted for him. Even if she really wanted to scratch the other woman's eyes out!

x x x x x

Scott moved from underneath Emma. They were in the dorm, in his room. He had gotten over his initial dislike of having sex in the dorms and turned a deaf ear to the gossip. But somehow, they always wound up in his room. Emma had been on top again, too. He didn't object to the position in general, but he just realized that she was always on top. She said it was because the dorm beds were too small. Scott had his doubts.

Of course, now that he thought about it, when he had been with Jean, he had always been on top. He had never really thought of that before. He wondered if it had bothered Jean. On the other hand, if it had bothered her, she would have let him know, or he would have felt it through their link. Jean was nice and clear about that kind of thing. Whereas, there was nothing clear about Emma. It got annoying sometimes.

Or was it just Emma that was annoying? Annoying, controlling, very high maintenance. She had a kind streak, but she also liked getting her own way. And while the sex was great, even in that regard, she was a little too aggressive as far as Scott was concerned. His own past experiences had made anything remotely rough or violent during lovemaking very distasteful to him. Emma sniffed and pouted, but usually let it go.

However, every once and a while, Scott got the same feeling he had when he was with Jean. That someone was trying to connect to his mind. Finally, he realized what it was.

Emma was a telepath.

x x x x x


	6. Into the Maelstrom

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 6 - Sophomore Year: Into the Maelstrom

At Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital, Jean stood at the nurses station, going over the chart of her patient and chatting with Donna, the head nurse on the ward. Jean had learned that the nurses could either make a new doctor's life easy or difficult and worked hard for friendly working relationships with all the staff.

But Donna was her favorite on the ward. Fifteen years older than Jean, she had a lot of ward experience and even better, was very easy to talk to. They worked together well. Jean had even gotten past her own reserve to talk about her own life and would have been surprised to realize how much information Donna had gleaned about her from these conversations.

At the moment, Jean stifled a yawn. It had been a tough week; long hours, not enough time with the patients. She had lost a patient yesterday -- that was always gut wrenching. And she hadn't gotten enough sleep last night. If only she could rest; she was so tired ...

_If the poor thing doesn't slow down, she's going to crash and burn._

Jean looked up in shock. It was Donna's voice, but Donna was looking at the patient board.

_She's going to die tomorrow, I know it._

Jean's head whipped around and followed the sad faced woman as she walked to the elevator.

_Concentrate, Jean_, she told herself. _Deep breath, concentrate. Build the wall, brick by brick..._

She tried the concentrate; she tried all the tricks Professor Xavier had ever taught her. But it didn't help. The voices still came at her. Jean had no idea she had gone white and her breathing was labored.

"Jean, are you okay?" Donna asked anxiously. She looked like she was going to collapse any minute.

Jean didn't hear her voice. The whirlwind had begun. It was no longer one voice, one mind. It was all of them, everyone. The nurses, the doctors, the patients, the visitors, the custodians. Everyone in the room, everyone in the hall, everyone everywhere. She felt she was being submerged in thoughts. There was no more control She was drowning.

"No!," she screamed. "Get out of my mind. GET OUT OF MY MIND!"

She wailed and flailed about. Shocked, Donna took charge. She held Jean down while another resident readied a sedative. Jean barely felt the prick of the needle through the maelstrom in her mind. Then there was blissful silence.

x x x x x

The hospital ward was stunned. The staff took Jean to an empty room and laid her on the bed before getting her emergency contact information. Jean's "in case of emergency" file was quite clear -- call Professor Charles Xavier at the Xavier Institute, Salem Center, in Westchester.

x x x x x

Ororo Munroe answered the phone. Her eyes widened in shock. She understood the situation far better than the hospital.

"Yes, yes, I understand," she said. "Someone will be there as soon as possible."

She looked at the big clock in the hall. The Professor was in Washington with Hank and wouldn't be back until tomorrow. And even if she left now, it would be almost two hours before she could get there. But there was someone else closer. She dialed a number she knew by heart.

x x x x x

Scott had made the train to New York City with minutes to spare. He tried not to fidget on the trip. He needed to stay calm, for Jean's sake. He went as quickly as possible from the train station to the hospital. Scott made his way to Jean's ward and paused at the nurse's station. "Excuse me," he said. "I'm Scott Summers from the Xavier Institute. I've come to pick up Dr. Grey."

Donna looked up at the sound of his voice. She recognized it from Jean's conversations and knew they had gone out briefly and that Jean had ended the relationship. _'Good Lord,'_ she thought. _'He's twelve.'_

Out loud she said, "I'm glad you're here. We don't know what happened; there wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on. I know Jean's been tired lately, but no more than usual, I thought. And I've seen her handle all kinds of chaos before; I don't understand what happened. She just fell apart."

Scott said nothing. How could he tell her that Jean's mental shields had obviously slipped, letting in a torrent of thoughts and emotions she just couldn't handle?

Donna led Scott to the room where Jean lay. The sedative was starting to wear off.

"Scott?" Jean whispered.

"It's me," he replied. "Don't worry, Jean, I've come to take you home."

"No shields," Jean whimpered. "No shields."

"Shush, shush, I know. It's going to be all right." Scott turned to Donna. "Do you know where she keeps her purse and coat? It's getting cold outside."

"I'll go get them for you," Donna offered. When she returned, Scott had Jean sitting upright. He helped her on with her coat, stuffed her purse in his backpack and held her firmly as they walked slowly to the elevator. He turned to Donna before they got on the elevator.

"Thanks," he said.

_'Well,'_ Donna thought as they left. _'Definitely not twelve.'_

x x x x x

Scott wanted to avoid large groups of people for Jean's sake so they bypassed the subway and took a taxi to her apartment. Once inside, he took off her coat and got her to lie down. Then he called the Institute.

Ororo must have been waiting by the phone; she got it on the first ring.

"Xavier Institute," she said quickly.

"Hi, it's Scott," he began. "I've got Jean back to her apartment. I don't want to take her to the Institute tonight, though -- she'd freak before we ever got there."

"It's that bad?"

"Yes, it's that bad," he said grimly. "When the Professor and Hank get back, have Hank come straight here. That'll be the best thing. I'll stay here until then."

"Are you sure you can handle her?"

"No," Scott replied. "But I'll manage. I'll see you tomorrow."

He hung up the phone and went to look in on Jean. She was huddled in a corner of her bed. He wasn't sure if the glassy-eyed look she had was the drugs or not. Unsure what to do, Scott sat beside her and took her hand. She turned to look at him, as if for the first time, and touched his forehead. "You've got a strong mind," she said, her speech still a little slurred. "A solid mind." She touched her own head and sobbed, "...broken."

"No, no," he crooned. "Not broken. Not broken." Scott pulled her into his arms and held her close. "You're going to be okay, Jean. I'll look after you."

"Don't let me go."

"I won't let you go," he assured her as he held her closer. "Not ever."

x x x x x

Close to midnight, Scott woke up. He had fallen asleep with Jean still in his arms. One glance assured him that she was now asleep; she looked almost peaceful. Carefully, he slid his arm out from under her, trying not to wake her. He figured the best thing for Jean would be to sleep.

Scott crossed the tiny living room to the kitchenette and opened the refrigerator. He hadn't had dinner and was now starving. Fortunately, Jean had food in the house. He found leftovers in neat tubs. He pulled one out, identified the contents as lasagna, and warmed it in the microwave for a few minutes.

He had just finished putting it on a plate when he heard movement behind him. Jean was up. She still looked shaky, but she was up.

"Hey," Scott said as he saw her walk unsteadily into the room. "Do you want something to eat?"

She shook her head.

"Come and sit with me," he said, taking his plate to the couch where Jean joined him. He was feeling his way through the situation.

In spite of having refused dinner, Scott knew Jean had to be hungry. He managed to convince her to eat by the simple expedient of feeding her half of his dinner like a child. One forkfull for him, one for her.

"Are you still getting feedback?" Scott didn't know the technical term for what had happened to Jean in the hospital, but she understood.

"No," she said. "I can't hear through walls unless I concentrate and there's no one else around. You're fine. You have natural shields -- a nice strong mind."

"Must be related to my hard head," he quipped and was gratified by a chuckle.

"Not quite," Jean replied. "It's happened before, you know. My telepathy going into a tailspin like that. This happened when my powers first manifested. With Annie."

Scott put his arm around her and she gratefully leaned against him. Scott knew Jean's gifts had manifested relatively young, but had never before heard the details.

She continued in a low voice. "It happened when I was ten. Annie was my best friend. We were playing in the front yard. She ran into the street and a car was coming -- there was nothing anyone could do. She died in my arms. I felt her leave."

Scott said nothing, but continued to hold Jean close.

"After that, it was an explosion of voices in my head. Everyone thought I had gone insane. My parents took me to every doctor they could. I was mis-diagnosed as a schizophrenic -- the doctors recommended a psychiatric institution. But my parents refused. My mother especially refused to give up. She took me out of school and home-schooled me for two years. My parents continued to take me to every specialist they could find. They finally found the Professor. He knew exactly what had happened, of course. He was able to lock down my powers; he said I was too young to learn to control them. I was probably too unstable by then, as well; I saw him every week for two years just as a psychologist. Later, the Professor slowly released my powers and taught me to control them. That's when we found out I was a strong telekinetic as well."

Scott closed his eyes and thanked God for Jean's parents. He knew exactly what could happen to pretty girls in a psych ward. He also found himself forced to rethink his opinion of her mother. Her tigerish protectiveness of Jean was now much more understandable.

"Is that when you came to school at the Institute?" Scott asked.

"No, that was later. I went back to school afterwards, but I never really fit in again. My mother had taught me too well; I skipped a grade and my old friends -- well, they just knew me as "Crazy Jean". I wasn't exactly popular. Finally, for my last two years of high school, my parents let me stay at the Institute and go to school in Salem, where no one knew me. Hank started coming around that time, as well, but he was already in college. Then I went to college and the Professor started finding more of us." Jean sighed, as if the burden of her memories exhausted her. "I've missed you so much. Make love to me, Scott. I need you to hold me."

Scott thought fleetingly of all the reasons why he shouldn't do this, but followed her back to the bedroom and into her bed.

He didn't think once of Emma.

x x x x x


	7. Off the Shoals

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 7 - Sophomore Year: Off the Shoals

The next morning, Scott woke with Jean tucked closely against his side. They were like two halves brought together, Scott mused. Jean trusted her mind, but not her body, whereas Scott was the total opposite -- he was totally sure of the physical and distrusted his mental abilities.

He thought now of Emma. The two women were in no way comparable. Jean was warm and welcoming; Emma was at heart, hard and controlling. Scott felt he was enough of a control freak on his own -- two control freaks in a relationship were a recipe for disaster. He didn't love Emma; and now he realized he wanted love or he just wasn't interested.

He still loved Jean. He had never doubted that. But she had been driven to doubt whether their love for each other could survive. Could she come to trust her original feelings again?

x x x x x

By the time Hank arrived from Westchester, Scott and Jean were up and waiting, with a small suitcase packed for Jean.

Hank looked stricken at the slight of her pale face and enveloped her in a hug. "It's going to be all right, Jean," he assured her. "Everything's going to be all right."

Scott sat in the backseat with Jean on the trip north. She stared out the window, unseeing, but occasionally her hand slipped into his.

"Do you want to be dropped off at school, Scott?" Hank asked as they got on the Interstate that would take them to Salem Center.

School? Oh, yeah, he was supposed to be in classes, wasn't he. In the panic over Jean, Scott had entirely forgotten about college. He looked at her. One word from her, and he'd punt everything for as long as she needed.

Jean knew that too, but she felt this return to Westchester to be a humiliation. She had failed. After almost fifteen years of training to control her powers, she had failed. She didn't want Scott to see that.

"You go," she said. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. "I can make up any work ..."

"No," she said. "It would probably be better by myself. I can't lean on you any more than I have."

"You're not leaning," he corrected. "But if you'd rather be by yourself, that's fine." Scott had felt her sense of shame and embarrassment and he understood those feelings all too well. She wanted as few witnesses as possible. He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. "I'm only a call away," he added.

x x x x x

Thankfully, when Hank and Jean arrived at the mansion, only Professor Xavier was there to greet them. Jean wanted to burst into tears.

Instead, she followed the Professor into the study where tea had been laid. She had to smile. The Professor's partial British upbringing had left him with a sense that a cup of tea could solve just about anything.

Professor Xavier set a cup in front of Jean and poured one for himself. He looked at her expectantly. Hesitantly, she told him of the events at the hospital. Her breakdown. Her utter disgrace.

"What's going to happen to me?" Jean tried not to whimper, but she felt like everything had fallen apart.

"I'll speak to your advisor," the Professor assured her. "We'll work something out. Jean, I know you were interested in Internal Medicine, but perhaps such close contact with patients wouldn't be the best thing for you. The strain of the long hours is hard enough, when you add the strain of being in constant contact with people in medical distress, it could be too much for you. Perhaps you should consider switching over to a more research based field."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like Genetics," the Professor responded. "You could spend the summer here working with Hank and myself. I can arrange it with your advisor to change your residency program and you could start as a Genetics Resident in your third year."

Jean bit her lip. "What would everyone say?"

"Does it matter?" Professor Xavier responded gently. "What matters is what is best for you. The Genetics Residents start in their third year anyway. If you spend the summer here, we can get you prepared for lab work and we also can work together on your telepathy."

She nodded sorrowfully. It was really the only solution that would salvage her career.

x x x x x

Back at Manhattanville, Scott caught up with Maggie and Nancy in the dorm, getting notes and filling them in on the reason for his abrupt flight from campus. Well, reasons that didn't involve mutation. "Breakdown" was a generic term that covered a lot.

"Is she going to be okay?" Nancy asked.

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. She was pretty bad when I left. I don't know if I should go up there this weekend or not."

"Don't," Maggie advised. "Let her get settled first. The semester is almost over, anyway."

"I thought I'd find you in here," Emma's spritely voice sang out from the doorway. "Where were you, I spent all yesterday trying to hunt you down?"

"I had to go to the city," Scott explained as they walked back to his room. "A friend was -- sick."

"Oh?" She obviously didn't believe him. They went into his room. Scott had no intention of breaking up with her in the hallway.

"Emma, we have to talk," Scott began. "About us. I'm sorry, this just isn't going to work."

"What do you mean?" Emma's tone was brittle.

"I don't love you, Emma," Scott said. "I'm sorry. I wish I did, but I don't."

Emma tried to shrug. "I told you before, love isn't a requirement for me."

"It is for me." There it was, final. "I'm sorry, Emma."

"Well," Emma said. "I guess that's that." She turned and left. Scott didn't see her again for the rest of the semester.

x x x x x

The big event at the end of the semester was Warren's graduation from Yale. Everyone from the Institute went. Warren was gratified by their presence, even though his parents had both made an effort to attend. Warren would be spending the summer in Europe with them and then would start working at the company headquarters, learning how to run a major corporation from his father. While Scott wasn't entirely convinced that this was something Warren really wanted to do, he recognized Warren's concern for this father's health. Mr. Worthington had not been well recently and Warren was willing to do anything to ease his burden -- even saddling himself with a responsibility he didn't really want.

Scott had confided his suspicions that Emma was a telepath to Warren ("Geez, Slim, what is it with you and telepaths") and at the latter's insistence, told the Professor. Professor Xavier seemed unconcerned by the news. Scott had a feeling that he already knew, and that didn't sit well with him.

As for Scott, he settled back in at the mansion for the summer and found himself instantly overwhelmed by the various needs of the children in residence. Classes at the high school didn't end until June and Scott found himself playing chauffeur, tutor, and guidance counselor. He and Ororo also trained together, trying to develop skills they knew would be needed. All of this made for very full days. But Scott was busy, so he enjoyed it.

Jean, of course, was staying at the mansion too. She had daily sessions with the Professor, to try to build back her control that had been shattered at the hospital. Scott had come to visit a few times before the semester ended. She had been hesitant with his presence at first, but Scott made sure she knew that there would be no pressure from him. He was there for her in any way she needed. Fortunately for her sense of equilibrium, Professor Xavier and Hank kept her so busy in the lab that she didn't have much time to think of anything else.

But Scott and Jean hardly ignored each other during the summer. They were once again friends -- laughing, teasing, and enjoying each other's company. Professor Xavier was relieved -- he was concerned that Scott and Jean would resume their relationship again and given her current fragile state, he was even less enthused at the prospect. But they didn't. Jean was absorbed in the lab and Scott busied himself with the students. He had a good rapport with the children and they seemed to mind him well, which also took some pressure off the Professor.

The summer passed by calmly. Another student was located at brought to Westchester. In August, Jean returned to New York to begin as a Genetics Resident. The Professor was satisfied and breathed a sigh of relief.

Which he wouldn't have done if he had read Scott's mind. For Scott had spent the summer planning. He had no intention of giving Jean up again. Not for anyone.

x x x x x


	8. With Stars to Guide By

_Author's note: Most of you seemed quite happy Scott dumped Emma. I hope you all enjoy the next couple of chapters._

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 8 - Junior Year: With Stars to Guide By

Scott moved back to the dorms with the other upperclassmen. He heard through the school grapevine that Emma Frost had transferred out to a school in Boston over the summer. He wasn't sure what to make of that. But he had to admit, he was more relieved knowing he wouldn't have to deal with the fallout of their ended relationship.

Whereas, he was delighted to find that Maggie and Nancy were again on the same floor as him in the dorm. The two young women were his closest friends at the college. And since they knew the entire history of his relationship with Jean, he spelled out his plan for them. It was simple, but he wanted to know what they thought of it.

Maggie broke into a rare smile when he finished. "Go for it," she said.

x x x x x

Jean had returned to the hospital with some apprehension, but she soon found she had no reason for nervousness. No one in the lab had witnessed her breakdown, and if they had heard about it, they gave no sign. It was a big hospital after all. And Hank was also working at the hospital on the Genome project, which meant he could meet her for lunch most days. So Jean did her best to put the past behind her and settle into working at the lab. She missed the patients, but she found that she enjoyed the work a lot. Genetics might not be a bad fit after all.

Late one night, she leaned back from the slides she was reviewing and stretched. Her attention was caught by a figure standing by the samples window. It was Scott.

Jean was startled and she ran over to the window. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Is everything all right ...?"

"Everything's fine," Scott reassured her. "I came to talk to you. About us."

"Oh." Swell, Jean thought to herself disgustedly. A medical degree and the best she could manage was monosyllables. How charming.

But Scott only smiled. "What time do you get off work?"

"Ten." She smiled slightly. "New girl in the lab gets to stay until closing."

"Fine," he smiled broadly. "I'll be in the waiting room. We'll go to dinner when you get off."

Jean found herself smiling. Scott was obviously in his take-charge mode. "Okay."

x x x x x

Just after ten, Jean found Scott in a nearby waiting room. He shoved his textbook into his backpack at the sight of her.

"What's open this time of night?" he asked as he rose from the couch.

"There's a pretty good diner a few blocks from my apartment," she told him. "We could go there."

She was rewarded with a brilliant smile. "Good. Let's go."

x x x x x

New York was truly a city that didn't sleep. While the diner wasn't full, it was by no means empty. The waitress took their orders and left them in silence.

Jean absently played with her fork.

"Jean?"

She looked up sharply. Scott continued. "Two years ago you said you thought we'd be better off with a break from each other. I didn't agree, but I went along because you said that's what you wanted. I know what I want. I don't want anyone else, Jean. I want you."

Part of Jean couldn't believe it. "You do? After everything?"

"I do. After everything." He hesitated for a moment. "Do you want me?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "I never _didn't_ want you," she assured him. "It's just ... I didn't want to hurt you. I thought you needed time on your own. But then this summer, you didn't say anything -- I thought maybe you weren't interested anymore."

Scott looked at her. "I thought after what you had gone through, you needed a break." He didn't add he didn't want the Professor interfering again.

"Thanks," she said. "I did need that."

Their dinners arrived. Jean smiled as Scott tucked into his hot roast turkey sandwich. He still had the appetite of a teenage boy. But that was all that was left of the teenager. Looking at Scott now, his face was still young (he was barely twenty and he still looked about fifteen), but the body and the mind weren't. Especially the mind. He had grown up. He was her equal. If she allowed him to be.

"So," Scott asked between mouthfuls. "What _really_ happened two years ago? Who convinced you that I was better off without you? Was it the Professor -- or someone else?"

Jean looked up sharply. "That doesn't matter. He didn't say anything that I hadn't said to myself."

"Which was?"

She tried to explain. "You were so young when we met."

"And?"

"And ... and what did that make me?," Jean asked. "You were sixteen years old; I was twenty-three and I wanted you in my bed! What on earth does that say about me?"

Behind his glasses, Scott blinked. He never once thought she had been attracted to him then. "But you never acted on it," he told her. "And you _had_ opportunity. I was in your bedroom often enough. One word from you and I would have stayed."

The waitress came and refilled their drinks. They were silent while she was there.

"Besides," Scott continued. "By the time we did anything, I was legally an adult. You didn't do anything wrong. I was eighteen and the age of consent in New York is seventeen. I checked."

"But still -- I wanted to. Even before then." Jean didn't like admitting that truth, even now.

"Please don't hand me any of that "lusting in your heart" nonsense," Scott replied firmly. "You never touched me, Jean; you never tried anything and you never led me on. It was completely innocent. _You_ were completely innocent. I wasn't always, but you were."

She looked at Scott in gratitude. Robert's cruel words two years ago had hurt.

"You checked?" she asked, returning to what he had said earlier regarding the age of consent in New York.

"Yeah," he admitted, blushing slightly. "I checked. So sue me. I wanted it too, Jean. Probably more than you did."

Silence resumed while they ate. "So, do you want to try again?" Scott asked.

Jean's eyes filled with tears. "I've missed you _so_ much," she admitted. "These last two years have been hell for me."

Scott reached out his hand to her. "Then why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted you to be sure," she explained. "I wanted to give you a chance to meet other people; we're a bit of a hot-house environment at the Institute. And whether we like it or not, I am a lot older than you..."

"Seven years," Scott interrupted. "Big deal. It's not the end of the world."

"No. But you're not the one people are looking at." Jean sighed. "When I'm forty, you'll only be thirty three."

"Yeah," Scott agreed. "And when I'm ninety, you'll be ninety-seven. Ooooh, that's a shocker."

She couldn't help but laugh.

He held her hand tightly. "I don't care what people think. I don't think we should waste any more time on it. I don't think we should waste any more _time_. What do you say, Red?"

Jean took his other hand and smiled.

x x x x x

After dinner, they walked back to her apartment. Scott had his arm around her. Jean had to admit, it felt nice.

"You know what part of the problem is?" Scott said conversationally. "We went straight from being just friends to lovers. There's a whole bunch of stuff that's normally in between, but we never got around to any of that."

She laughed. "Like what? Dating? You want to go on a date?"

He grinned back. "Yes, I want to go out on a date. Several dates. All with you. I want to fill in the gaps."

"It's going to be hard," Jean admitted. "My hours aren't nearly as bad as the Internal Medicine rotations, but still, my hours at the lab..."

Scott put a finger to her lips. "Just send me your schedule. Let me work out the logistics."

She smiled as they walked. Logistics -- well, Scott was a master planner. Maybe they could make a relationship work this time. They reached her building.

"There's a midnight train back to White Plains," Scott told her. "Do you want me on it?"

"No," Jean said simply as she took him into the apartment building and up the stairs.

x x x x x

Scott returned to Manhattanville early the next morning with the sense of mission accomplished. He and Jean were back together again. This time, things would be a lot different. He'd make sure of that.

He rounded a corner came face to face with Emma.

"Emma," he stammered. "I heard you'd left."

"I did," she replied coolly.

"I hope, I mean, it wasn't because of me ..."

"It might interest you to know, Summers," she said scornfully, "that the entire world does NOT revolve around you." Her expression softened. "My grandmother's ill. Actually, she's dying. I transferred to a school in Boston to be closer to her."

"I'm sorry," said Scott, abashed. He hesitated for a moment. "Would you like to go get some coffee?"

Emma's lips twitched slightly with amusement. "I'd like that," she said as they walked back to the cafeteria.

x x x x x

Scott had declared his major to be mathematics at the end of his sophomore year, and in desperation, made English his minor. His advisor had pushed hard for Education as a minor and possible career, but Scott wasn't sure. While he liked the idea of teaching (he happily tutored any of the kids at the Institute that needed extra help), he didn't think a mutant math teacher had much of a future. Eventually, he knew, they would be found out. Scott had seen a great deal of the dark side of humanity; he had little doubt when mutants were discovered to exist, it was going to get ugly. He had no desire to be hounded out of his profession simply for being a mutant. So he picked his next favorite subject and considered other career options. He had no idea he was going to be changing his plans again very shortly.

x x x x x

Scott went to the Institute that Friday afternoon. He was going to tell the Professor that he and Jean were seeing each other again, and if need be, to tell the Professor to butt out. But he walked into the aftermath of chaos. There had been an "incident" at the high school. Professor Xavier had had to do massive damage control and was now reading the riot act.

Scott leaned on the banister with Ororo and listened with some sympathy. They had all done it themselves, of course, but this case was slightly more serious since three of them were involved, including Lorna.

All of the students left the interview downcast and Lorna was in tears. The Professor looked so exhausted he decided to give him a break before talking to him. Scott and Ororo spent the rest of the day with the students -- drying tears, listening to semi-coherent versions of what had occurred (he never did piece it together) and restoring everyone's sense of equilibrium.

x x x x x

After dinner, Scott and Professor Xavier played a game of chess. The Professor still looked worn out. He sighed.

"Tired?" Scott asked.

"I'm not sure how much longer we can continue sending the children to the local high school," he admitted. "Granted, it worked well with all of you, but after today ..." He shook his head with fatigue.

"Well, it was different with us," Scott acknowledged. "There were only, what, two of us at the high school at any one time? But now there are seven. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Accidents do happen. Eventually the rest of the world is going to realize we exist -- we'll be outed for sure."

"It would, of course, be better if they could be taught here," Professor Xavier mused. "But I like to give them the interactions of a regular school. Plus, I couldn't teach all of them. Even I have my limits."

Scott looked up suddenly. "Why don't _we_ teach them here?"

Professor Xavier smiled. "I just said why -- I can't do it."

"I said WE -- you, me, and 'Ro. My advisor's always pushed me to consider teaching, and I think I'd like it, but I was always afraid of what would happen when we're discovered. I know Ororo's been thinking about teaching as a career, too." Scott continued, his voice becoming more confident. "The three of us could do it. I can teach math and English, Ororo can teach history, and you can teach science and -- everything you've taught us from the beginning. How not to hurt people. To be proud. To know you're not a freak. They need that -- we need that. Ororo graduates this year and I'll be finished next year. She can get a masters in Education and I can get some class work under my belt. We can do this."

"It would be the best solution," Professor Xavier admitted. He looked at Scott carefully. "Are you _sure_ this is what you want to do with your life? You don't have to do this."

Scott smiled. "I'm sure. I've considered being a math teacher -- I'd love to do it here." He watched Professor Xavier's next move on the board with interest. "By the way," he added, "Jean and I are back together again -- and we're going to make it work this time." He scanned the board and saw his move. "Check-mate."

x x x x x

Scott and Jean did make their relationship work this time around. At twenty, he was far more assured and, with a little advance planning, he was able to get up to the city to see Jean at least once a week. And while she still worked long hours, they were far more structured than when she was a first year resident. It also helped that this time there was no open opposition -- the naysayers (the Professor included) kept their mouths shut and Hank, Ororo, and Warren were pleased they had gotten back together. The atmosphere around them was very different.

Jean also made an effort to be a part of Scott's life at Manhattanville. She visited periodically, met Maggie and Nancy (and was relieved when Scott told her the nature of their relationship), attended games and events and had a lot of fun doing some of the things she had missed during her college years. It amused them both to see the reactions of the other guys in the dorm when "Scott's girlfriend" turned up. More than once, Jean picked up the projected thought, _"how does he do it?"_ She could have told them, but was more diverted by letting them all wonder.

Of course, she also picked up stray thoughts from those in the dorm regarding Emma Frost. Jean decided to firmly ignore those. She knew Scott had dated her and guessed the relationship had been pretty intense while it lasted. But she decided their relationship was going to stand or fail based on the present; she would not allow the past to intrude.

x x x x x

Scott decided to stick with English as his minor and to pick up as many education classes as he could. He figured he could work in 3-4 education classes before he graduated. If he wanted an official minor, he'd have to stay another year and he didn't want to do that. Ororo, with only one semester left, decided to leave her schedule alone and looked for a masters degree program in Education that would suit her. Fortunately, in the New York City area, there were several to choose from. She made her decision, sent in her application and was accepted easily. Scott was thrilled to hear the news. The school was going to be a reality.

x x x x x


	9. Setting Course

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 9 - Junior Year: Setting Course

Scott returned to Manhattanville from Christmas break still with a grin on his face. Not only had he and Jean maintained their relationship easily over the semester, but he had also gotten the best surprise present of all. A miracle had happened -- his long lost brother Alex had been located and Scott had spent two weeks of the vacation with him and his adoptive family in Hawaii. On top of that, it was discovered that Alex, too, was a mutant. Alex would be coming to spend some time with him at the Institute in the summer.

Scott Summers had a family. Not only the family of the Institute, but blood relations as well. He also had the beginnings of a career. The Professor began laying the groundwork for turning the Institute into an actual school. While private schools weren't required to have teachers certified by the state of New York, both Scott and Ororo decided to go for full certification. The paperwork was mind numbing to Scott, but it was goal.

He thought back to the recent past. Less than five years ago, he was a runaway, with no home, family, or future. Now he had a home, a brother, friends, and a vocation. Scott settled back and put his mind and talents into becoming the best damn math teacher in the state of New York.

x x x x x

Jean rolled over and looked at the clock. It was four a.m. She turned to the young man beside her and laid her head on Scott's shoulder with a contented sigh. She loved sleeping with Scott. Apart from the sex (which was great), she loved having his warm body next to her and better still, his solid mind that didn't broadcast out to her.

Their mental link was even stronger now. It should have dissipated during the time when they were apart, but it hadn't. Jean knew she should investigate why, but investigating would mean involving Professor Xavier, and she didn't want to do that yet. She suspected he'd want to break the link before it got too strong, and she didn't want that to happen either. Now they were seeing each other on a regular basis again, the telepathic connection between them was firm enough where Jean was able to teach Scott some techniques in using it. He was surprising good at it.

Scott shifted in his sleep, making her smile. For more than anything else, what she loved about being with Scott was the feeling of safety. Which was odd, when you considered his optic blasts could blow her to kingdom come. But he was careful and Jean made sure he knew she trusted him. And that made all the difference in the world.

Listening to Scott's steady breathing, she drifted back to sleep.

x x x x x

That morning they had breakfast together before Scott had to leave to get back to Manhattanville. Breakfast was another perk of his presence -- he got them up early enough so there was time to eat, instead of running out the door with a cereal bar and a coffee travel mug.

Scott sipped the hot coffee while he glanced at the paper. Jean noticed he was looking in the real estate section. "I've been thinking," he began. "Maybe I should move out of the dorms next year. Maybe -- we should move in together."

"Move in here?" she asked. "Commute to school from Manhattan?"

"What do you think?"

"I'd like to live together," she acknowledged. "But it's a 40 minute commute on the best of days from here. Maybe we could split the difference and find an apartment between Columbia and Manhattanville."

"That would be Yonkers," Scott stated drily. "But -- are you sure you could handle a commute like that? All those people, every day?"

It was the first time Scott made an allusion to her breakdown. "I'm not made of glass, Scott Summers," Jean flared. "I'm fine now. Don't treat me like I'll break."

"Fine," Scott said, capitulating. "Yonkers it is."

"Fine," she repeated and then looked at him again. "You really want to live together? I have a hell of a temper."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," Scott remarked. "Yes, I really want to live together. I want to stay with you. Manhattan, Salem, -- or Yonkers. I want to be with you."

"Me too," Jean acknowledged as she sipped her coffee. She would later remark that this conversation was her first marriage vow.

x x x x x

Being in college, however, had not meant Scott and Ororo had stopped working to thwart mutants intent on chaos and exposure. During Scott's three years at Manhattanville, they had gone on several "recoveries" and more than one "mission." The aftermath of this latest mission found Scott and Professor in the basement, discussing the whole scheme.

The basement of the mansion had original been excavated and enlarged to provide laboratory space for Xavier's physicist father. Over the years, Charles Xavier had extended the original work so that the basement actually covered a larger area than the mansion above it. Scott was mostly familiar with the laboratory, where he and the Professor now sat.

Scott finished the story with a deep sigh of annoyance and disgust. They had barely gotten out alive and certainly had not succeeded in their mission. However, they had caused enough damage where it would take several months for the mutant in question to rebuild his operation. But Scott was getting tired of just getting out alive.

"Professor, I think we need to face facts," he stated firmly. "We're amateurs. You need professionals and I don't know how you're going to get them. Professional training for us would be great, but I don't know how that's going to happen. It's not like you can send us to Commando Camp."

Professor Xavier blinked. "Perhaps I can," he said.

Scott was floored. "You can't be serious."

"I am," the Professor stated firmly. "You and Ororo can be trained here; I can find someone to train you."

Scott gave up the conversation there. "Good luck," he muttered as he went back to his room.

x x x x x

A few weeks later, Ororo graduated from Western Connecticut State University with a double degree in History and French. As with Warren's commencement ceremony, everyone from the Institute came and so did Warren. Jean came with Scott, underlining their relationship even more.

At the party at the mansion, Scott and Ororo happily chatted about the graduate program she'd be starting in August and the paperwork involved in being certified teachers.

Jean was serving the cake and handed a slice to the Professor.

"So what do you think of our plans for a school?" he asked her.

"I think it's great," she replied. "We really need one."

"Are you interested in playing a role?"

Jean was dumbfounded. "As what?"

"We'll have almost a dozen children to start, and I have no doubt the school is going to grow," Professor Xavier explained. "A resident physician would be very useful. And you'd be able to continue your laboratory work here."

"I hadn't thought about it," Jean admitted. "I really hadn't thought much about what I was going to do after my residency ends, since -- I had to change things." While Jean enjoyed working in the lab, she had always wanted to work with patients. There was a part of herself that considered lab work not being a real doctor. Was she going to be able to follow her dreams in spite of everything?

"Well, think about it," the Professor advised. "The position is here if you want it."

x x x x x

On their way back to the city, Jean told Scott of her conversation with the Professor. "What do you think?" she asked.

"I think it's a good idea," Scott confessed. "But what do _you_ want to do?"

"I don't know," Jean sighed. "I wish I did. I guess, if my plans hadn't changed so abruptly ..."

"Didn't you say you enjoyed Pediatrics?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," she admitted. "Pediatrics was my second choice, after Internal Medicine."

"Do you think this would be a good opportunity to do both?"

Jean pondered that. "I have to admit," she said. "That's an appealing idea. I could work in the lab and work with patients. Since it's a more controlled environment, I probably wouldn't have any -- problems."

"Sounds like you've made up your mind," Scott said.

"I guess I have," she replied. She grinned. "Do you think the Professor would let us live together at the mansion?"

"I've spent the night with you already and he hasn't pitched a fit," he said drily. "And if he doesn't like the idea, we can get an apartment somewhere."

"Sounds like a plan," Jean said as she smiled inwardly. She was going to get to be a real doctor again after all.

x x x x x

Scott had intended to spend the first part of the summer with Jean in New York, but for the first two weeks of summer break, Scott was back at the Institute. "Commando Camp" wasn't too far off. He and Ororo were given intensive training in military-type operational techniques and tactics. It was mind blowing to Scott to think of the things Charles Xavier could arrange.

Their instructor was a former special ops Army officer. Professor Xavier told him that he was teaching bodyguards tactics that would be useful not only to keep the Professor safe, but also to extract him from a kidnaping situation. Charles Xavier was an extremely wealthy man; it wasn't an usual request nowadays. Their instructor didn't appear to notice when their training sessions deviated markedly from simple bodyguard maneuvers. A little mental manipulation went a long way.

Both Scott and Ororo did very well. They looked back in horror at some of their past missions and realized dumb luck had been on their side more often than not. They continued to practice during the summer and Professor Xavier made a list of more advanced training they would be receiving. The Professor had had a very upsetting luncheon with an old friend and he now had no doubt that their views were going to diverge violently before too long.

x x x x x

The rest of the summer was taken up with Scott's reunion with his brother Alex. The first part of the visit was spent sightseeing with the Masters, Alex's adoptive parents. The second part was spent working with Alex's mutant gift. As Scott had realized in Hawaii, Alex had a significant level of control already. He advanced quickly working with the Professor and Ororo. Scott had almost no role to play in these sessions; he had no natural control over his mutation. He tried to hide his mounting resentment -- and wasn't always successful.

On top of that, Lorna Dane had fallen head over heels in love with the young man and had changed her college plans to merge with his. Given that Scott considered Lorna to be like a baby sister, that had freaked him out more than anything else. But Jean helped him cope with the situation and no damage was done (literally or figuratively). So, while the visit wasn't a complete success, it wasn't a total failure either. The brothers parted affectionately and Alex agreed to come back the following year.

x x x x x

In August, Scott broke the news that he and Jean would be moving in together to Professor Xavier. They had found an apartment in Yonkers which almost evenly split the distance between Columbia and Manhattanville. He received the information calmly. Scott had offered to use his inheritance (the money from his parents estate, which Alex's adoptive parents had safeguarded for him) to pay for his last year at college, since he knew the Professor still didn't approve of the relationship, but Professor Xavier only scoffed.

"Scott, I told you when you began college I would support you there and I will continue to do so," he said. "If you choose to pay rent as opposed to paying the college room and board, that is your decision. I will deposit money into your account to cover your tuition, fees, and other expenses, just as I did last year. I do not wish to discuss the money any further."

Moving wasn't a problem. Jean didn't have a lot of furniture and Scott had even fewer possessions. A small rental truck took care of Jean and one trip to the Institute saw Scott moved in. When they were finished bringing in the last box, they stood in the middle of the tiny living room and laughed. They had a home of their own.

x x x x x


	10. Sailing for Home

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 10 - Senior Year: Sailing for Home

"Jean!" Scott called. "Come on, you're going to miss your train."

"I'm coming," she replied. At the door she shrugged on her coat while Scott handed her a travel mug of coffee. This had been their routine for the past two weeks.

Scott drove to the train station while Jean applied her makeup. It was amazing to him that women managed to put on makeup flawlessly in a moving vehicle, but Jean had the knack. He was still nervous about her being on a crowded train and subway for twenty minutes, but he was far too intelligent to say anything. He noticed she glared at him when he even thought it. But so far, she was coping well.

After leaving the train station, he continued in the other direction to Manhattanville. He would stay on campus until evening when he would meet Jean's train. Since neither of them were much of a cook, dinner tended to be take-out or frozen. Evenings were spent with Scott doing homework and Jean reviewing her lab notes and prepping for the next day. And in spite of predictions of death and disaster, living together turned out to be the easiest thing they had ever done.

There were, however, issues. Not all the opposition went away. Professor Xavier didn't say anything, but he had definitely been a member of the "death and disaster" club and they had no reason to suppose his feelings had really changed. Jean's mother had said a whole lot more, with the result that for weeks later, Jean barely spoke to her mother.

However, that was now the minority opinion. Their apartment had quickly become a haven for their friends. Maggie and Nancy had also left the dorms and the four happily found reasons to get together frequently. Ororo, now doing graduate work in the city, often used their apartment as a way station and a place to sleep over when necessary. Hank was also a frequent visitor, and so was Warren. Warren especially needed to get away from the expectations of Worthington Industries and his family. Eating Chinese food and watching TV was a welcome break for him.

They continued to sail along happily until Thanksgiving.

x x x x x

"So, how did you manage to wrangle an invite for me?" Scott asked.

"What do you mean?" They were driving to Annandale-on-Hudson, to be with Jean's family at Thanksgiving. Scott had expected them to be separated for the holidays and was startled to be included.

"Well, the couple of times I've met your family, I can't say we really clicked," he replied honestly. "So, I was just wondering why I'm coming."

"You're coming because we're living together. The sooner my family accepts that, the better off all of us will be," Jean stated firmly.

Scott had no idea what had transpired between Jean and her mother to get the invitation, but he could guess. The two women were both very strong willed, but his money was on Jean for being able to hold the line.

x x x x x

The Grey house was a big white Colonial revival house with a sun-porch on one side and situated near Bard College, where Professor Grey was head of the History Department. They parked the car in front of the house and got out the suitcases and the pie (purchased from a local bakery.)

Professor Grey greeted them at the door. "Daddy!" Jean squealed as she hugged and kissed her father. "You remember Scott."

"Of course," he said in his friendly manner. "Glad you could come." He called over his shoulder, "Elaine, they're here," and then led the way to the living room.

The room wasn't empty. Inside were Jean's sister and brother-in-law, as well as their two children, the twins, Gailyn and Joey. Jean kissed everyone while Scott followed, to be introduced to the group. He had met her sister Sara once, briefly, but had never met her family. Scott realized he was being looked over by all four, but only the children had an uncritical eye.

Just then, Jean's mother breezed into the room. "Jeannie," she cried out, giving her daughter a big hug. Scott watched the dynamics for a moment. There was nothing hypocritical about their stance -- the two women were tied by strong bonds, even though equally strong personalities strained those bonds to the limits at times.

Elaine Grey then held out her hand to Scott. "It's nice to see you again," she said.

Okay, that wasn't the warmest greeting he had ever had from her, but it wasn't the coldest, either.

"Nice to see you too," Scott said. There was a moment's silence.

"Well, I have to get back to the kitchen," Elaine said. "I've got all burners cooking at once."

"Can I help?" Jean offered.

Both Scott and Sara sent their eyes skyward looking for divine intervention, although only Sara's was noticeable. Fortunately, maternal intervention came to their rescue.

"No, dear," her mother replied drily. "Why don't you take your things upstairs and show Scott around. Dinner won't be for another hour."

Scott followed Jean back to the hall and carried their suitcases up the stairs. Jean opened the door to a bedroom and flopped on the bed. "This is where we'll be staying," she smirked.

Scott looked around with interest. It wasn't a museum to Jean's childhood, but there were plenty of mementoes to look at.

He finished looking around the room and joined her on the bed. "And you're _sure_ it's okay for us to sleep together here?"

"Oooh, yes," Jean responded enigmatically. She would say nothing else.

x x x x x

All in all, Thanksgiving dinner turned out better than expected. Scott decided to ignore Elaine Grey's coolness and Sara and Paul Bailey's disapproval and addressed himself mostly to Jean's father and the twins.

"Jean tells me you're going to be a teacher, Scott," John Grey remarked as he passed the mashed potatoes around. "And that Charles will be teaching the children at the Institute?"

"That's right," Scott confirmed. "As everything stands now, I'll be the math teacher -- well, math and English composition. Ororo is going to take social studies and the Professor will handle everything else. Beyond that, we haven't really made any decisions yet. The kids aren't going to get short-changed academically, though; we've all agreed on that."

"But still, you'll only have a bachelors degree," Elaine murmured.

Scott realized in the world of academia, degrees were everything. "Right now, yes," he admitted. "But both Ororo and I will be working for permanent certification -- and that takes a masters degree. It's a lot of paperwork, but we think it will be worth it in the long run."

"Have you considered where you'd like to study?" John asked.

Scott shrugged slightly. "I looked at NYU, but frankly, their program didn't appeal to me. However, the State University at Albany has a program I think I'd like and I can even do the course work for that online."

John Grey tried not to sniff at that. He had a low opinion of online programs, but recognized the need for them in some fields. "I'm surprised by the rush," he said. "I thought the local high school worked out well."

Scott shrugged. There were things he didn't want to say in front of Sara and Paul Bailey. "Situations change," he replied.

x x x x x

While Thanksgiving went better than either really expected, Scott and Jean decided not to repeat the experiment at Christmas. Jean went to her family and Scott joined his brother Alex and the Masters in Hawaii for a few days. New Years, they spent together at the Institute.

x x x x x

The Xavier mansion was still decorated for Christmas (the Professor maintained his family's tradition of keeping decorations up until Twelfth Night), but the Library was scattered with paper and textbooks from end to end. Scott, Ororo and Professor Xavier were planning the school's curriculum.

"There's only three of us," Scott said. "We have to keep it simple."

"I don't think the one room school house approach is going to work," Ororo stated.

"She's right," the Professor joined in. "However, I think four separate grades will be beyond our abilities right now. Suppose we put the 11th and 12th grades together and the 9th and 10th grades together. That would be two sections, which would be manageable."

"What about kids younger than fourteen?" Scott asked.

"Since we only have one student under fourteen right now," Professor Xavier replied, "we can probably keep the younger children in the public schools -- until there are more. Hopefully, by then we'll be prepared to handle them."

Ororo began writing in a large chart. "Let's see. Scott gets math and English composition, I do social studies, and the Professor will take the sciences and English lit. Scott and I will handle PE together -- "

"Oh, joy," Scott breathed.

"-- and the Professor will teach ethics and mutant powers," Ororo finished. "What about electives?"

"We could offer Auto Mechanics," Scott grinned.

"Excellent suggestion," said Professor Xavier.

"I was joking!"

"I'm not," the Professor stated. "I think it's useful to offer practical skills as well academic ones."

"What about languages?" Ororo asked. "I'd be a competent teacher's aide in a French class, but I don't think I could really teach it."

"Maybe we could try online courses for languages," Scott suggested. "That way, we could offer any language they want to study, with assistance in French, German, and Spanish."

"What about the arts?" she demanded. "Artistic expression is very important for a well rounded education."

"I think we're going to have to call in back-up on that," Scott admitted.

Ororo grinned at the phraseology. "These aren't plans for a mission," she reminded him.

"In a way, they are," Professor Xavier reminded them. "But Scott is quite right; we can only provide so much in-house. We can have music and art appreciation sessions, with visits to museums and concerts, but anything beyond that will have to be on a contract basis."

They all agreed with this compromise. With a small number of students and only three teachers, they could only do so much. But they now had a framework, which left plenty of room to grow.

x x x x x

That evening, Scott enthused about the school plans to Jean. Then he noticed she was silent.

"What's up?" he asked.

Jean decided to be honest. "It's just .... I feel a little left out," she admitted.

"You're not left out," he assured her. "You're going to be the doctor, and you'll have your lab experiments to do ..."

"I know," she said. "But ... I want to be more involved. I feel like I did when you and Ororo started training to work together seriously. I'd like to do more."

This was news to Scott. "I thought you thought it was stupid."

"Maybe I did at first," Jean said. "But after I heard about what you were doing -- the kinds of people you were going up against -- I felt like I wanted to be a part of it. But I wasn't."

"There's no reason you can't be," he stated resolutely. "You want to be involved, you're involved." He held out his hand. "Partners?"

Jean grinned and shook his hand. "Partners."

x x x x x


	11. Safe Harbor

_Standard disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just borrowing them for our entertainment._

**Scylla and Charybdis**

Part 11 - Graduation: Safe Harbor

Scott finished his final semester without so much as a ripple. He jumped through every graduation year hoop and did well in all his classes. On the final day of exams, there were plenty of tears and hugs. Everyone was going to be moving on now. It was part of growing up and having their own lives.

The whole of the Xavier Institute came to see Scott graduate. There were now twelve teenagers in residence. While three of them were graduating from high school themselves that year, they all knew this was the last year any of them would be in a public school, hiding what they were, and they were thrilled that all that was going to change.

Jean had gotten the day off and was sitting next to Ororo. They were chatting about Ororo's graduate program and her hopes to finish at the end of the summer.

"This seat taken?" It was Warren. There was a spate of hugs all around.

"Oh, come on," he protested. "Did you really think I'd miss seeing our fearless leader graduate from college?"

"I suppose you doubted this day would come," Ororo smirked.

"No, I didn't," Warren replied, surprising both women. "I know once he decides to do something, it's done." He grinned. "After all, he wanted Jean -- he got Jean. It took long enough, but he got his way in the end."

The two women looked at each other for a moment before punching him.

"Ow!"

x x x x x

They followed the commencement ceremony in the program and waited impatiently for the 'S's.

"Scott Summers."

A roar of approval went up from the Xavier Institute group. Afterward the ceremony was over, they made their way through the throng of caps and gowns to find Scott. Hugs were given and pictures were taken, just like all the other families around them.

"Scott, Scott!" It was Nancy, followed by Maggie. He found himself blinking back tears as he said goodbye to them. The two young women had been a big part of his life for the past four years. Now, they were moving to California where Maggie was going to go to graduate school. He knew it would be years before they saw each other again.

This life was over. A new one was about to begin.

x x x x x

Contrary to expectations, Scott did not immediately return to the Institute. Jean's residency didn't end until July and he point blank refused to be separated. When they moved, it would be together. They were a package deal.

And since that was the case, they still had to have a conversation with the Professor. While they had spent the night together at the mansion several times, they weren't sure how he _really_ felt about it. Scott and Jean went to the Institute to see Professor Xavier together. Scott forced himself not to appear nervous. They went to the library and found tea was laid out for them.

Jean poured the tea while they began with pleasantries. As always, the school was the main topic of discussion.

"The children are becoming something of a handful," Professor Xavier admitted. "Of course, understandably so, but still, I'm looking forward to you taking up residence here again." _There,_ the Professor thought. _That would be a nice opening for the boy._

"Yes ... about that," Scott began, taking the opening presented. "There's something we needed to talk to you about -- living arrangements."

"Yes?"

"Well, since Jean and I are living together now ..." he stumbled.

Jean jumped in. "If you'd rather we live off grounds, that's fine. We understand."

Professor Xavier held up his hand to stop them. "Please," he said. "Our experience has shown that many, if not most, of the students here will be runaways. I doubt after what they'll see living on the streets they'll be shocked to find two teachers living together. In fact, seeing mutants like themselves in an established relationship might be good for them. As long as you and Scott maintain a certain level of decorum, I have no objection to you living here, at the mansion. Would you like to move into the blue room? It has a private bathroom and an alcove that could easily be furnished as a study."

Jean and Scott looked at each other. They were being offered the choicest room in the house. This was sweet -- and completely unexpected.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. "We know you've never been in favor ..."

The Professor interrupted him. "What I considered to be wrong for you at eighteen is obviously right for you now, at almost twenty two. To be honest, I do still have some reservations, but that you've been very successful at maintaining your relationship this past year speaks for itself. It would be far more convenient for you to live in the house. If privacy becomes an issue, we can discuss other options at that time. But for now, I would prefer you to stay."

Scott looked at Jean again, who nodded. "Okay," he said. "We'll move back in August."

x x x x x

The summer zoomed by. Even though he was still living in Yonkers with Jean, Scott spent several days a week at the Institute, working with the kids and keeping them out of trouble. His brother Alex also returned for several weeks and the summer was a little less tense than last year. Alex's relationship with Lorna was even stronger and she would be joining him at Berkeley in the fall. Scott still hadn't decided how he felt about that, but he was getting used to the idea. Finally, Jean passed her Board examinations and her residency came to an end. She was ready to start as the resident physician at the Institute, as promised, in August.

A few weeks before they were to move, Scott and Jean began packing.

"Not those," Jean said suddenly to Scott as he began to pack a stack of books. "Those are coming with me to New York."

"New York?" he echoed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I've been talking about it with Hank and Professor so much, I forgot to tell you. Hank's asked me to join the Genome Project with him!"

"Oh," Scott said. _So much for being partners,_ he thought. "I thought you were set to be the doctor at the school?"

"Hey!" she replied sharply. "I caught the 'partners' crack." Her tone softened. "It won't interfere with my being at the school; I've worked it out with Hank and the Professor. I'll be commuting to New York twice a week; the rest of the time I'll be working in the lab at the Institute. We've got all the equipment I'll need. And Hank's going to come down once a week to work with me. He thinks its important that we start doing research on mutations, so when we're discovered -- and we know we're going to be, it's only a matter of time -- we'll have good science to trot out and steer the discussion."

Scott wasn't sure science was going to lead the discussion when the inevitable happened, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," she said. "It just got sorted out this week."

"It's okay," he lied.

"No, it's not okay," Jean insisted. "I hurt your feelings and that wasn't right. Do you forgive me?"

Scott smiled and kissed her hand. "There's nothing to forgive," he said.

x x x x x

They rented a small truck to move and they had a small army of helpers from the students. Their new room at the mansion was bigger than Jean's old room and, situated at the other end of the house away from the rest of the students, it gave them a sense of privacy.

That evening, he and Ororo shared the school's plans and curriculum with Jean. She immediately saw a problem.

"Don't you think the Professor is taking on too much?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" said Scott.

"Well, he's doing both science classes, plus English Lit, plus Ethics, plus working with _all_ the students on their powers," she pointed out.

"There's only three of us, Jean," Ororo stated.

"Suppose I team-teach the science classes with the Professor," she offered. "I'll be here three days a week; I can certainly give a few hours to the classroom. Besides, I ..." she smiled at Scott, "I want to be more involved."

"Okay," he said. "Let's go talk to the Professor."

x x x x x

They found him in the basement, unpacking a large box.

"Jean spotted a problem with the schedule," Scott began without preamble and then stopped. "What's that?" he asked as Professor Xavier pulled a jacket out of the box.

The Professor handed the jacket over to Scott with a smile. "It's for you to wear on missions. What do you think?" he asked.

They looked it over critically. To date, they had been wearing leather, but this, this didn't quite feel like leather. "What is it?" Ororo asked.

"A special fabric some researchers have been working on," the Professor replied. "It's a prototype. A synthetic fabric that will keep the wearer comfortable and better -- safe. Most knives can't cut it and it will stop small caliber bullets. I've had uniforms made for all of you."

They were still young enough to find the prospect of actual uniforms exciting. Scott tried the jacket on. It was skin tight, but he looked really good, in Jean's opinion.

Scott's grin slipped a little as he looked at the Professor. "It's come to this, then?"

He nodded. "I'm afraid so." He paused. "You can still back out -- all of you can. We can continue with the school and it will affect nothing."

"No," Scott replied. "We have to do this -- because we're the only ones who can."

x x x x x

"So I guess we're a mutant SWAT team now," Ororo remarked as they returned upstairs.

Scott shrugged. "Somebody's going to have to do it. It might as well be us."

"You guys need a name," Lorna called over the banisters. Scott marveled at how quickly the kids knew what was going on in the house. They probably already knew about the uniforms.

"For what, Miss Nosy?" he called back.

"For the team," she replied. "We all know about it; you went to get most of us." She thought for a moment. "What about X-Men?" she offered. "X for Xavier, for X-gene, X for lots of things."

Both Ororo and Jean started to giggle; Scott was hard put to keep a straight face. "X-Men" -- it was too funny. "We'll think about it," he assured the younger girl.

x x x x x

The next day was bright and sunny. Everyone gathered around the front gate, looking at a covered plaque on the stone wall. Professor Xavier smiled.

"I never dared to dream, all those years ago, when I first brought a mutant child to this house to teach her how to control her powers," he looked at Jean with a smile. "That one day we would be opening a school for mutant children, to educate the mind and develop the gifts, without fear and without hiding. Today, that day has come."

Proudly he yanked the cloth off with a flourish to the applause of the students and teachers. It was quite simple:

Xavier's School   
for   
Gifted Youngsters  
1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center  
Westchester County, New York

A new beginning was at hand for them all. 

THE END

_I hope you all liked this story. I'd like to thank my beta-readers, Jen and Amy, for reading (and re-reading) all my drafts and finding all my mistakes! Thanks all._


End file.
